Miserable
by Number One Fan of Journey
Summary: Every Hunger Games is filled with trauma. The 48th is certainly no exception in making all those involved terrified, disturbed, and miserable. *Crossover: Some of the tributes bear quite a resemblance to countries we know... Third story of Brutal series.
1. History Repeats

Author's Note: Welcome to the threequel, everyone. I know I said this wouldn't become a trilogy, since I thought I had completely run out of characters with which I am familiar. I still technically have, but I'll give it a go anyway.

Thanks to the support of my BDDSG'ers and to Pceluvmusicart for meeting my demands to make this story possible. (And thanks to Socky for ruining the surprise, nya.)

So. Let's get going.

* * *

><p><strong>Shiran Kirkland, District 5<strong>

"Are you sure you want to go?"

Sighing at my mom, I fiddle with my hand-me-down tuxedo's collar. "I went last year, and I'll go this year."

Mom isn't convinced. "Because you know we could always pay—"

"Mom," I interrupt. "We can't afford that much of a fine anymore." I look at the floor. "And it's not like it'd keep me from being reaped, anyway."

With worried eyes, Mom nods shakily and finally lets Dad and me out the door.

* * *

><p>Even after we've arrived at the town square, it takes another long minute of convincing before Mom lets me go to the thirteens' section. She was this bad last year, too. I don't remember her being quite so crazy about turning Igris loose the first few times. But she has her reasons.<p>

I find a relatively uncrowded part of the section and stand alone. It'd be great to hang out with friends like most of the people here, but, y'know. We've always been rich, nobody likes us, yadda yadda yadda. You get used to it. Especially... Especially when you have a big brother to annoy.

But anyway.

The mayor steps up for his yearly blather. I try to listen, but it's impossible to not zone out when he speaks in such a boring monotone.

I wish I were back home, in the backyard. I can always entertain myself somehow there. Just run around or something, you know? There's a lot of room—Mom was going to try and sell some of it, along with a bunch of other things, when prices got too high to keep sending Igris things, but Dad made her stop—and it's just really nice to be outside, I guess.

But I won't be going home just yet. Have to sit—well, stand—through all of this for a while longer.

After what seems like a _really _long time, the mayor backs down and the escort takes his place.

Just when I thought I'd be relieved the blabber is over, I feel my heart rate go up. The escort's about to pick names. He's going for the boys' bowl first.

Okay, okay, calm down. You didn't get picked last year, and... Well, my name's in there more than last year, but we still haven't quite been pushed to tessarae, so...

...We didn't have tessarae when Igris got reaped.

But that's... He was older. And I'm still thirteen, so... Thirteen-year-olds get picked, too. But...

Oh, I'm driving myself mad! Just stop it! Has he picked the name yet? I hope he picked the name, because I didn't hear mine, and...

Even though it feels like I've been fretting for much longer, the escort has only just reached the bowl of slips.

Oh, be over already! I can't stand this! Hurry up! Just don't call me! Please don't call me! _Please don't call me...!_

The escort finally takes a slip out agonisingly slowly. He looks at the paper and squints at it for too many nerve-racking seconds. After the recognition of the letters dawns on his face, he finally opens his mouth to announce. The sounds proceed in slow motion.

"Shi..."

_My name starts with a "shi"! My name starts with a "shi"!_

"...ran Kirkland!"

A little gurgling sound comes up in my throat, but in a second, the only thing I can hear is a scream of "No!"

As Mom keeps howling, I find myself staggering up to the stage. My throat stays partly closed and achingly dry as I finally mount the steps.

"_You can't take him! You can't take him...!_"

I finally figure out where Mom disappeared to—because now she's shoving through the crowd to get to me.

"M-mom!" I get out, taking a small step toward her. "S-stop... You can't..."

"They can't take you, Shiran!" she continues, choked by sobs more of fury than fear. "They can't take you!" She keeps forcing her way forwards until some Peacekeepers finally get in her way.

"Back _off_!" she shrieks, shoving one aside and stumbling once more towards me before her arms are forced behind her back. Unable to continue, she just kicks vainly at the Peacekeepers surrounding her and wails my name. I can only hear her a moment longer before the Peacekeepers pull her back from her spot, a metre in front of the stage. She finally gives in and lets them drag her away.

I just watch, air caught in my throat, until I finally seem to realise where I am. Onstage. At the reaping. Exactly where my brother was three years ago.

It must look eerie. I bear a strong resemblance to him. That must be part of what made Mom freak out... The exact same thing happenening all over again...

Will I die, too? Neither of us had ever done real work or training. He could have won, though... He really could have... But I'm not him. I'm younger. I don't have a super-rich family to send me things. And I'm... just not _him_.

I don't know what's going to happen.

I'm just scared.

**Wy Micra, District 5**

I haven't been paying any attention to the reaping.I don't want to get stressed out or anything, and it's easy enough to distract myself here at the square. Plenty of buildings and trees and clouds... They aren't that interesting at first, but if I look at them like I'm going to paint them, I can get carried away in seconds. Thicker dabs here for the clods of dirt on the bricks, thin paint over the skies for just the right pale grey, quick and delicate jabs for those bright leaves in the distance... Although it gets me itching to run off and at least grab a sketchpad, I manage to anchor myself here.

I like the way the tree branches of the background zigzag to meet the leaves, the birds darting between trees so fast I can't get a grip on their forms, only their colours.

I'm not sure I'd want to paint all of the people around me, though. I've never been that good with crowds; I always want to make everyone individual, but I can't squeeze much into a centimetre-tall expression.

But maybe the stage? It's not bad, just a black metallic thing beneath its decorations. It has a few clumps of rust or something, and I sort of like how the tops of the stairs catch the light.

There aren't too many people up there now, just the mayor, the previous Victors, and the escort. The escort would be fun to paint if I only do the stage. His crazy looks would completely clash with all the nature around, but it'd certainly be an adventure just to mix up the right hues for his two-toned hair.

I like the poses he strikes, too. They're perky, and joyful poises are so much better to paint than slumping ones, like those of some of the Victors. Now he's holding his hand over one of the bowls and reading the bright white slip. A boy right next to me, with clean blonde hair and wonderfully bright sea blue eyes, takes jerky steps towards the stage and up the stairs, casting shadow over the gleams.

He seems familiar for some reason... He was standing almost right next to me, but he didn't strike up a conversation or anything, so... Huh...

Well, whoever he is, he just got reaped...

But anyway! I can reflect on that later! I have this scene before me for only once in my life, so I'll get everything out of it I can!

Um... Well, the escort's strutting over to the other bowl now. The bowl catches the light in a nice way, I think. I've always liked the shine marks on glass and things.

The escort dips his hand in the bowl, causing some slips to flutter and flicker away from the glass. A single slip, a bit off-white—maybe Isabelline?—reaches his hand, and his bright yellow-painted lips move strangely to read off the name.

"Wy Micra!"

Er—er—what?

The escort looks around the crowd, about to call the name again.

"Um, I heard!" Still in a faint state of shock, I make my way towards the stage quickly and take the three steps by twos.

I... What? O-okay, this is bad. This is... bad. Okay, I'm still jarred from this, and... Okay, just take deep breaths. Nothing's really happened yet. Just stay calm.

Just stay calm and take a good, long look at the things you may never see again.


	2. Monotony

**Seborga Costa, District 11**

"Seborga! Nine o' clock!"

I flop over on my mattress, wriggling back under some of the sheets that slipped off.

"Seborga!" Mom repeats, sounding more irritated.

Somehow able to make my vocal chords work through the drowsiness, I call back, "It's reaping day! We have 'til one!"

"Normally, but _someone _hasn't finished his botany assignment."

With a mumble of disapproval, I finally get myself out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom.

I wish my Mom wasn't my botany teacher. Or that our part of the district didn't contain the person pre-reaped so we wouldn't have to show up in the first place.

Yeah, I might wish the second one a little more... But what can I do? There are still plenty of people in this part of the district. Even if I'm in the running, I'm still probably not going to get picked. I'm fifteen and haven't had to take any tessarae, so I don't have bad odds. We'll just have to see what happens.

In the meantime, I have to do my stupid homework.

I get my face washed off, and, somewhat more awake, go over to the kitchen. Mom's already made breakfast for us. Dad's sitting at his place, politely not eating until Mom scoops out my eggs and hash and seats herself.

I take my time eating breakfast, but soon enough I have to go work on my assignment.

I don't like school that much. But, you know, some people aren't fortunate enough to go to school and all of that. So I'll be grateful. Even if it really does make me want to scream sometimes.

So, I do my homework like a good little boy. I manage to finish up by eleven, and I eat lunch while I'm still dressed in my sleeping shorts.

Mom releases me to my room, so I go get showered off. I comb my hair out in front of the mirror, which is still so foggy my head isn't much more than a fuzzy brown blob with a patch of skin colour in the middle. But that's fine. I'm one of those guys who doesn't have to spend an hour in front of the mirror to look good. And I still get the ladies coming after me.

So I finish up with my hair pretty quickly and move on to the closet. While my normal outfits are nice enough, I probably want to dress up a little extra today. I pick out a so-dark-it's-almost-black green suit and a plain white shirt to wear underneath.

By the time I get my clothes and shoes on and smoothed out, the mirror's not as foggy, so I check my hair again. Still looks fine, still has that one stubborn curl. I don't mine the curl. My hair's so slick and smooth it can use the break in uniformity.

I go ahead and run a brush through one more time before going off to the living room. Mom and Dad were apparently waiting for me.

"You ready?" Dad starts, putting a hand on the front door's knob.

"Yup."

"Let's get going, then."

* * *

><p>We get to the reaping a little early even though the town square's pretty far from our house. I check in and give Mom the obligatory peck on the cheek before I head to the fifteens' section.<p>

By chance, I end up finding some space next to a three-girl cluster. Of course, it would be very rude to be so close and ignore them.

"Afternoon, ladies," I start with a smile. "How are you three doing today?"

One girl responds with a disoriented look, one frowns, and one smiles at the brink of giggles.

"Fine as we can be at the reaping," the second girl says, unamused. The third girl sighs at this and gives me a look of apology.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just nervous."

"Well, we're all a little nervous, aren't we?" I respond amicably, leaning and putting an arm over the more cheerful girl's shoulders. She tries to shrug me off a little but can't help giggling.

The second girl hasn't stopped frowning. "If you're going to hit on us, could you at least pick a more appropriate time?"

"I'm not hitting on anyone," I object, acting a little offended. "I'm just trying to help everyone keep their heads through the ceremony. You know you can cope with things a lot better if you're smiling."

Suspecting all of that was bull, the second girl just rolls her eyes and turns towards the one in the group who never really noticed me.

"Well—" I turn my attention back to the happier girl— "do you still want to watch the reaping next to me, or...?"

"I don't mind," she replies with smile. I beam back at her, and then the ceremony begins.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

It's so crowded in the sixteens' section I end up with a pole of the barrier stabbing into my back. It's not very pleasant, but there's not much I can do about it. Just try to ignore it.

That's about what I'm doing with everything else here, anyway. The mayor's speech can't come close to capturing my attention, and there's not much else happening. Some girls chattering, someone breathing heavily, and a Victor scratching his nose. This isn't the most interesting place, to put it simply.

But I have to be here. Have to keep watching the stage until the escort steps up, and then see what happens after that.

I guess I'd rather be at home, though it's not that amusing there, either. Just me and my parents. At least we wouldn't have to work today. I guess that's good at taking up time, though, so... Hm. Maybe I'd rather be at school? I don't have any friends, just some acquaintances, so that's not all that much fun, either. And I couldn't do much out of the ordinary that isn't illegal. District 11 in general just isn't very amusing.

The escort finally takes the mayor's position at centre stage. She squawks something about the cheer of the Games, etc, etc, and then goes up to the girls' bowl.

I watch her silently, lacing and unlacing my fingers. I can't say I'm about to go into hysterics, but I certainly don't like the idea of being in the Hunger Games...

The escort picks a slip right off the top of the bowl and calls out the name.

It's my name.

Putting my hands to my sides stiffly, I start shouldering through the crowd.

Okay. So I've been reaped. That's... at least sort of exciting, right?

That's no consolation. I'm going somewhere where people die. Where District 11 hasn't won more than once since I've been born. I don't have any special survival skills. I have a decent-enough build to put up a fight, but I haven't thrown a punch in my life. No real advantages.

But I'll still fight. I'm not comfortable with the thought of murdering someone, but I won't go down quietly. I could win. It's not likely, but it's possible. And that possibility is all I and my family have to hope for.

I climb the few steps up to the stage and stand silently. Hoping the audience won't be able to tell I'm grinding my teeth, I watch the escort move to the other bowl of names. She takes a slip near the edge and reads the name. I don't recognise it.

It's a minute before the one finally called steps up. He's shaking but not quite in danger of bursting into tears. All right. He'll be getting us sponsors, too. He needs to look strong, even if he doesn't have an impressive build.

So, District 11 doesn't look all that bad this year. Hopefully enough people will support us, and hopefully our mentor will give us what we need.

...Give _me _what I need. This Seborga has to die for me to live. So... Right. Hopefully _I _get enough donations...

This is going to be tough. But I'll try to survive.

The escort has me shake hands with Seborga. He gets out a nervous but friendly greeting.

"Hey," I respond as we let go of each other's hands. The escort starts to push us towards the Justice Centre. "G'd l'ck."

Seborga takes a second to get through my mumbling before nodding.

"Good luck to you, too," he breathes.

We exchange a look of mutual sympathy before we're pushed into separate rooms.


	3. Moving Along

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

The Justice Building is sultry. I guess I should have expected that. All of the factories are this hot and miserable.

Of course, if you're in the factories, you didn't just get reaped. So I guess I'll give my workplace extra points for that one.

I cross my legs uncomfortably. I've already taken off my dress jacket, and I'm seriously tempted to strip my sweaty shirt off, too. But before I can consider anything further, the door opens.

My mother walks in. She makes no attempt to stifle her tears as she sits next to me on the couch. We embrace, but the heat forces us apart sooner than we'd like.

"You can do this, Norge," she starts, keeping her small hand over mine. "You're a strong boy."

I nod silently, wrapping my hand around hers.

"I know you can come back," she continues, closing her eyes and seeming to talk more to herself than me. "I... I know it'll be hard, but you'll come back." She looks back at me imploringly. "You will come back, right, Norge?"

"Yes." It almost hurts to see her so worried; at least this eases her mind a bit.

Not that I'm lying. I can never know how hard it's going to be until I get in there, but I'll be trying to win. I'll have to go hungry and thirsty, fight the arena, and kill people. And I'll still try.

Mom smiles at me through her crying before leaning her head back on the couch. Too exhausted by worry to know what else she wants to say, she just keeps squeezing my hand every once in a while until the Peacekeeper comes to escort her out.

WIth an exhale, I stretch out on the couch. It's still too hot. I wish I could leave now.

No one else should be coming. I don't have any particularly close friends, and I have no siblings. And there's no way my father would care to show up.

He wasn't around for me at any point in my life, not even when I was still in Mother's womb. I don't know the whole story. All I know is he made some promises to Mom only to flee back to District 9. I'm sure he's just a coward who didn't want the responsibility of a child. He probably would have left Mom without me there, too.

Maybe I'll have to track him down if I win. I don't need to kill him, just... I don't know. I haven't thought much about it, since travel between districts is rare. I'm still not sure I'll be able to find him. Bet the Capitol would love the drama, though. I could get it done.

Of course, I have to win first. That's... that's going to be hard, to understate things. Can't say just how well I'll do. I'm strong enough from all the labour in the factories, and I'm seventeen, which gives a little more of an advantage when it comes to build. I'm at no level to defeat Careers, but I can handle most of the others.

I'm not going to get into the psychological aspect of it just yet. I can't justify it other than I'm trying to come home. No better than anyone else, but it'll have to be good enough.

I should try for some allies. They're always helpful at the start of things, even if they're doomed to crash and burn later. I'll make sure not to let in anyone weak. Or they could be physically weaker if they have other skills I need. Not much to go into before I know any of my potential allies.

Well, I suppose I know one, my district partner. Considering she's been crying hysterically since her name was called, I don't think she's that promising.

Only time will tell. There are other tributes to meet, and other things to do before I ever set foot in the arena. From there, it won't get any easier.

But I'll still try.

**Paliss Crai, District 8**

It's too hot for me to be curled up into a little ball. But at this point I don't really care.

I'm used to this. It doesn't take something as serious as getting reaped to put me in the throes of despair. And when I'm there, I do a lot of this stuff. Curling up, fetal positions, crying. Especially crying. How I haven't died of dehydration the world may never know.

But I guess these water faucets of legend are pouring out a few more tears than usual. I mean, I j-just got reaped. I... There are no words to properly describe how much a part of me has just died. I... I... I just need to shut up and keep crying.

A knock on the door distracts me from my hysterics, and a moment later the Peacekeeper lets my parents and little sister in. They do their best to comfort me. There's a lot of hugging. Mom and Dad, used to my bawling but no less concerned, remind me anyone could win and nobody can know the Victor for sure until the Games are over. My sister of thirteen years, also crying though she's never been close to my level of tear-gushing, starts telling me all the little things that could make me win.

Of course, everyone will think I'm weak and hopeless since I'm sure I'm not going to do much in front of them but cry. Exactly how close I am to that image is debatable, but... I at least have a recent Victor to mentor me. She hasn't gotten too broken down or anything yet, so she should be a good help, training me before and watching me after. I'm no street fighting champion, but I'm not a frail-looking anorexic, either. Of course, the whole crying thing makes me look weaker, and, um... Well, I won't _be _that weak, is the thing. Okay.

Just as I'm starting to get overwhelmed by how much is going to have to go into this for me to get out safely enough, the Peacekeeper tells my family it's time to go. This causes a fresher wave of tears as we desperately cling together in a last hug. The Peacekeeper guides them away from me, and I'm left alone.

Some friends come by after that saying the same things. I can do this, they love me, I'll be in their prayers. After the lot of them have assured me, I'm not quite in hysterics anymore, though I'm, predictably, still sobbing.

I try to go through all of my friends in my head. I don't think anyone's left. So I'll just sit here crying until they put me on the train... where I'll sit there crying...

Okay, I may be exaggerating a teensy-tiny bit. But I don't know. I don't have any moments in my life comparable to this. Friends moving away, having to watch horrible happenings in the Games, having to start work in the factories... Those may have been sad or scary, but nothing like being reaped.

I don't know. I'm just not sure what's going to happen. Like my parents said, there are so many twists and turns made by the Gamemakers to keep things interesting. There's a perfectly good chance some of those will favour me.

If I get out of the bloodbath.

...

Um, anyway... So... I could try to figure out a weapon. I'm sort of a klutz, but weird things can happen. Maybe I'm secretly a genius with bows and arrows or something? It could happen. maybe. I kind of get close to throwing up just seeing large amounts of blood on TV, but, but maybe it's different in person? Okay, it's probably worse, and I'll probably start crying if I see someone bleeding from a paper cut. Or maybe not that much worse?

Oh, I just don't know. I... I'll have to wait it out, I guess. I don't have any more idea what's going to happen than anyonoe else in the district. I'll just... get some help from Veta and hope it all works out.

The door opens again, and the Peacekeeper tells me it's time to leave the Justice Building. I stumble out after him into the cooler air. The temperature's nicer, but I don't like the feeling of getting closer to the Games. I like to stay as far away as possible... Except the Capitol makes me watch.

And now they're making me get even closer.


	4. Comfort

**Ise Javik, District 9**

I quietly drum my fingers on the couch's leathery surface. The tapping immediately becomes nerve-racking, so I stop. The upset feeling doesn't go away, though. Once I figure the whole thing is just because I've been reaped, I go back to tapping my fingers.

It takes another few minutes of stewing in the cold before the door finally opens. My parents walk in, and I move my hand so they can sit on either side of me. Dad puts an arm around my shoulders, while Mom excitedly kisses my face a few times before she can calm down. Dad appears more collected, but I can feel the tenseness of his arm behind me.

There's no way I could leave these people. Not if I don't come back.

"I'm going to win." Having broken the silence at last, I lean back against the sofa and Dad's arm.

Mom nods at me rapidly, though she doesn't look very convinced.

"I'm going to win," I repeat, looking her in the eye as solidly as I can. "I'm not going to leave you guys alone here."

"We know," Dad responds, pulling me closer to him for a second in a half-hug. "We brought you up strong, inside and out." At this point I'm not sure if he's reassuring Mom or me.

But it's working both ways well enough. Mom's no longer in danger of bursting into frantic tears, and I'm feeling a little calmer, too, although I wasn't that wound up in the first place.

I give Dad a nod of thanks before looking out towards the empty side of the room distractedly. "But..." I lower my voice. "You're all right with me having to kill people, right?"

"That's the only way you can win," Dad responds quietly. "We understand."

"Okay." I let out a long exhale and look back at Mom. The thought of me killing people hasn't helped her much, but she's still all right. She'd have to realise this sooner or later, anyway.

I hear the doorknob click as it twists. The Peackekeeper's about to take my parents away. I try to think of something meaningful to say, my last words for now. The best I can come up with is just "I love you."

"Love you, too, son," Dad says, pulling me into another strong half-hug. Mom's less reserved; she wraps me in a tight, two-armed hug, and I reciprocate while she letts me know how much she loves me, too.

Then the Peacekeeper opens the door and shooes them out. H enearly has to pry Mom off me, but Dad can let go of his own accord. He gets up and looks back at me one last time.

"We're counting on you, Ise. Win for us."

And with that, they leave.

I'm immersed back into silence I still can't quite appreciate. I start drumming my fingers again.

So. I'm going to win this. I've been reaped, but that doesn't mean I have to die. People younger than sixteen have won before, people weaker than me have won before, and people less dedicated than me have won before. There's no buts, no what-ifs. I'm going to win, and that's all there is to it.

I'll have to train with a weapon once we get in the Centre. I'll choose one thing and stick with it. There won't be enough time to gain reasonable skill in more than one area. I might have to stop at some survival stations, but I'll only deal with one weapon.

I think I'll go for bow and arrow. Long distance, not too heavy to carry around, not too wearying to use. I won't get the whole hang of it in three days, but I'll have to do the best I can. I'll have to do the best I can in everything. That's the only way to win this.

And I'm going to win this. I don't know much. I don't know what the arena's going to be, what people are going to be there, what mutts are going to be there, if I'll even get my hands on my weapon from the Cornucopia. But I know I have to win. And that is what I'm going to do.

**Tina Sinki, District 9**

I've barely seated myself when my parents hurry into the room. Dad sweeps me right back onto my feet in a near-strangling hug, and the second he relinquishes, Mom throws her arms around me. I'm still a little shocked from the whole ordeal, but I manage to hug back.

We all sit down on the couch. Mom immediately starts telling me how she'll love me no matter what I do, and some other things I don't catch since she's talking so quickly. Once she takes a break from speaking, Dad jumps in with how much the both of them love me, and how all of my friends are going to be hoping for me.

I'm still a little confused. They don't normally speak this fast. Or maybe I'm just hearing slow? Either way, it's hard to keep up with what they're saying, and at some point I say "uh-huh" so many times they realise I'm not getting everything they're saying.

Dad apologises for bewildering me and, settling down, takes one of my hands. Mom claims the other before running her other hand through my short, blonde hair a few times. The familiar motion is soothing enough to pull my mind a little closer to my body.

"So... I've been reaped."

...Still not quite at my peak intelligence.

"It's okay, sweetie," Mom responds quietly, continuing to comb my hair with her fingers. "You'll be all right."

"...Yeah." I get the urge to shift my legs, but don't move lest Mom stop brushing through my hair. "Yeah, I should be okay." I smile. "It's not the end of the world or anything, right? I just... have to go to the Games now." Mom hesitates in her stroking for a second before resuming.

"And I'll get to go to the Capitol and get dressed up," I continue. "That should be fun, don't you think? They do some crazy outfits sometimes, but I bet it'll be neat to go through."

"I think you'll have a great time, sweetie," Mom murmurs.

"Yeah. It'll probably be fun to ride on the chariots, too. I'll be really close to a real horse! That should be neat, too."

"Mmm-hmm." Mom casts her brown eyes down. I don't think she's able to think of the same things I am.

I should reassure her. But to do that, I'd have to think of the same thing... And honestly, I'm not sure I'd do that well. I'm not one of those kids who's gotten into a bunch of school fights, or has such a tough job she can lift a couch over her head without breaking a sweat. I haven't gone through a lifetime of not enough food—though I have had a few patches of that—and I've never had a chance to form any survival skills. I could make friends easily enough, but that wouldn't make me win. I'm fifteen, so I don't have much of an advantage in that respect.

I should be able to run fast enough to get out of the bloodbath; I'm pretty sure about that. But beyond there... I-I... Things don't look that good...

So, I can't try to comfort anyone when I can't comfort myself. Sorry, Mom. I don't want to lie to you.

Before any of us has said another word, the Peacekeeper comes in to take my parents away.

Not much happens after that. A lot of my friends come through, and we either reminisce or pretend I could get through this thing piece-of-cake. There's not enough time for the conversations to get too deep.

But that's all right. I'm back to cheerfulness now, after all those inside jokes and anecdotes. A smiling face may not really be that strategically useful, but it's the one thing I know I'm an ace with.

So, I'll keep myself happy as long as I can. Maybe make some new friends. Maybe I could even come back out.

But that's all for another day. For now, I smile.


	5. Quite a Spread

**Aurth Unikin, District 6**

I've had just enough time to watch the reaping recaps on television when the escort, Angerona, swings my door open with an excited look on her face.

"Who's ready for dinner?" she starts excitedly. "I know I am!" Apparently this was a joke, as she bursts out laughing. "Well, come on, come on! The dining car is this way!"

I don't have much of a choice but to follow after her, though she's truly beginning to annoy me. I can almost stand the near-lethal amount of cheer, but her outfit is quite close to blinding me. It's so blatantly colourful I don't understand how it's possible to dye something that orange without use of magic.

She takes me, as well as my district partner, a room or two to the left, and then we arrive in the dining car. It's the same as the other cars, with the exception of a large, set table in the centre. Angerona seats herself in the middle of everything and invites us to select our chairs. I get my distance from her eyesore hues and from my district partner. I hope the Victors don't feel the need to sit near me, but I suppose there's nothing I can do about that.

I'm not really antisocial. People are just nettlesome. I like to avoid contact when possible.

One Victor arrives and sits next to my district partner. The other doesn't seem to be coming. Who knows what she's doing? Certainly not me, and I don't feel like finding out.

Lunch starts up with some sort of soup. Its taste is wonderful, but I've never been able to focus much on flavour, so I find myself drifting off.

I wonder what the arena will be this year. I suppose I could easily find out with some simple scrying spells, but I think I'd rather like a surprise. I don't need much preparation, after all. I may be younger than all the tributes but the Fives and the boy from 3, but that shall hardly hold me back. I have an advantage shared by no other tribute.

I have black magic. Though my father never knew the arts, I discovered a spellbook myself and soon caught on. The ability to practise sorcery is hereditary and rare, but I am one of the chosen.

I couldn't be less concerned about the Hunger Games. I'm obviously the only black magician, as none of the other tributes wear The Hood.

The Hood will have to be my district token, I suppose, as it's impossible to execute spells without it. I'll have to go without my book, but I have plenty of time to commit to memory all the spells I'll need. I think a few curses should suffice to knock down the other tributes.

The escort derails my train of thought with a loud burst of laughter. I glance up at her in mild vexation before turning back to my meal.

It's certainly very good food. I don't pay much attention to taste, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. We've always had rather rubbish food at our home. Father doesn't have a job that pays well, and I'm still a bit young to think about working. I suppose there are spells to bring in more money, but that of course takes it from others, and I'd rather not use up my powers on mere robbery.

I'll have to budget my energies in the arena as well. As all sorcerers know, a user of the black arts can only perform so many spells before he runs dry of magic. Luckily, I haven't used my powers on any unnecessary skills successfully, so I've plenty of magic left in me yet. As I decided earlier, I'll stick to curses. Most are quite unspecific, but far from difficult to memorise or perform.

Though I have to say I feel a bit sorry for the others in the competition. Poor mortals don't have an inkling of a chance against me. Ah, well. I'll do what I have to.

**Bell Gique, District 6**

I have to admit, my district partner is really weirding me out. He seems fairly nice, but... Between the crazy look in his bright green eyes and the black hood/cape he refuses to take off, I'm starting to think he might sort of be a teensy bit of a complete nut-job. I won't judge, but he, uh... he freaks me out a little.

Luckily, it's easy to switch my attention to the food once the next course is brought out. I smell the salt and syrup before I see the dish. Fried chicken on waffles, complete with powdered sugar and maple syrup with the kind of quality we'd never get in District 6. The ingredients seem like a weird combination at first, and it doesn't seem quite as gourmet as I've heard most Capitol food is, but it works. It _really _works. These Capitol chefs could probably make my big brother's sweaty socks taste good.

Wonder how well he's doing now. I'm sure he's still worried, and he will be until I'm either home or dead. But it won't hold him down much. He can deal with strife well enough. My little sister's probably the one to be concerned about. She'll probably have to take off from work, she'll be fretting so much.

They have reason to worry, though. Even if I _am_ seventeen and have enough meat on me that my height doesn't make me lanky, I'm still going to the Games. I don't know any real fighting techniques, and there's no way I could survive a run-in with Careers. Can't say if I could win over the other tributes. I haven't seen them all yet.

I guess I should probably be a little more concerned at how likely I am to die in this. Leaving my family behind and poor Luxy all broken up. There really isn't much I can do, though...

I'm not getting anywhere with this but depressed. I... I'm just going to focus back on the food.

I haven't finished this course yet; it's so big, I'm not sure if I will. But I really do like it. I've always liked waffles, and I can bake a mean one. I'm not that much of a chef, but I can definitely make a good breakfast.

Mm... Can't think much of that without remembering Luxy running in the kitchen and half-knocking me over, she was so excited when she smelled the batter cooking. That was a while ago... Now she's fifteeen, me seventeen. Really, not much has changed...

Okay, the food isn't distracting me that well. I... I don't know. Not much else to think about. I don't know enough to strategise, and the Victor sitting next to me seems a little too doped-up to give me any good advice.

I don't know if I'll be trying to get out of there, anyway. If the Victors from this district aren't example enough of what those Games do to a person...

I pause in eating long enough for a sigh.

I sure don't want to die, but... I'm pretty sure I'd die on the inside if I didn't on the outside. I'm already acting a little too gloomy for my tastes. I like being cheerful. It's more fun. I can't really seem to cheer myself up, though.

The meal wraps up, and I drift back to my room. I identify the television as the prime source of something potentially cheerful and start poking through the channels. One improv show seems funny at first, but it soon descends into Capitolian jokes I don't understand.

On one channel is the reapings without commentary. I find myself lingering at the images of those who are going to try to kill me. Careers from 1, 2, and 4 as usual. 3 has a twelve-year-old boy and a tearful girl whose name seems familiar for some reason. Five has two young ones, one of which is pursued by his unsuccessful mother. Six, of course, is me—I actually look pretty strong-willed in this shot—and my district partner, who accepts his reaping with some sort of cackling.

From 7 is a strong-looking girl and boy, as would be expected from the lumber district. 8 has a very tearful girl and a nearly-emotionless boy. The boy from Nine has almost the same look on his face as the Eight boy, while his district partner looks at the audience dazed. 10 has a girl with a scared expression but sturdy body and a boy who seems oddly confident for just being reaped. Eleven has a terrified boy and a stoic-looking girl. and to end it all, Twelve has a very troubled-looking girl and a boy who doesn't seem to realise he got reaped.

So all of these people need to kill me in a few days' time, huh? Such a strange thought...

I end up flicking back to the improv show in hopes they'll use a few more universal jokes. The antics and audience laughter keep droning on until I find myself nodding off.


	6. Flabbergasted

**Korea Im, District 12**

The minute I step onto the train, I make the escort take me to my room, and I turn the television on, flicking madly through the channels until I find my drama.

Yes! It's only just started. I'd go crazy if I didn't find out whether Iulia accepted Marco's marriage proposal or not! I guess I couldn't blame her if she turned him down, since he's terminally ill and his mother hates her, but they should totally—aah! The title sequence is over!

I pretty much don't do any more thinking of my own until a commercial for air freshener comes on.

This show is so intense! I can't think for a second during it, or I'll lose something crucial to the plot. Well, we do lose electricity at home a lot, which really, really is really stupid, but that's usually only during the non-Hunger Games year. If the Hunger Games are going, the electricity's always up. So I always get to watch my stuff!

I have to watch some of the Games, too, but it's pretty dramatic. Not, um, good, but dramatic. I'd take this show over it any day.

I guess I kinda have to go the Games now, huh? Well... It's probably a lot more fun to watch than be in... Since people kind of die... And dying is really not fun... I mean, it's not fun when other people die, either, but it's, like, on TV. And stuff on TV isn't real. It's just... there.

Actually, there have been people who say the Games really aren't real, and everything is just computer animation or something. Maybe it is! If I—ah, it's back on!

By the time the next commercial break rolls around, my train of thought is beyond recall. I try to figure out what it was, but one of the commercials declares I'm watching a marathon.

It's a marathon? I must have missed that commercial! Aah! This is so exciting!

I keep watching. Hopefully no one next door minds all my gasping and spluttering.

A commercial has come on right before the last episode. But someone knocks on the door.

"Korea!" calls the escort, voice gurgly from drink. "It's suppertime!"

"But my show's not over!" I cry. The escort doesn't respond, but I hear unsteady footsteps getting softer.

"Uh... Uh..." I look at the TV and back at the door.

Oh, I can skip one meal! Or show up late! What are they going to do to me?

Uh, don't answer that.

But really. One meal. They'll probably still be eating when this episode is over, anyway! They can wait!

The next segment starts, and no sooner have they revealed that Iulia also has terminal cancer than a commercial break pops up.

How could they leave it off at such a pivotal moment? Quit showing stupid beer commercials, TV! Tell me what Iulia chose now! Now! I must know what happens!

The only reaction I get is another knock at the door.

"What?" I call exasperatedly.

"Um... Our Victor told me to come and get you..."

"But I'm busy!"

There's a moment of silence before the girl apologises a few times and hurries off.

My show comes back on, and I lose myself in it for a period too dramatic to be marked with time. Somewhere in the middle, a louder knock comes.

"I'm busy!" I call quickly and desperately, keeping my eyes glued to the screen and hoping no other noise will distract me.

"If you don't want to die in the bloodbath, you should come out here and eat with us."

"B-But..." I cast a worried glance at the door before turning back to my show. A commercial comes on immediately.

I hear the Victor walking off.

"Um..." I look at the TV screen pleadingly, trying to get it to show me the rest of the episode right now, but it only changes to a restaurant commercial. With a quick glance at the clock, I determine the next ssection of show will be the last.

Oh, forget supper. There's just a little bit of this left!

The show finally comes back on, and once it gets to its final cliffhanger, I run off to the dining car.

**Owella Fehr, District 12**

Staring at the spot just evacuated by my mentor, I squirm uncomfortably in my dinner chair. What am I going to say when he gets back? He had to leave in the middle of a course just because I couldn't get my district partner out of his room...

Um, I'm sorry? Oh, why do I have to waste his time? I should have just made Korea come earlier.

Well, I guess there's nothing I can do about it now.

I poke a fork at my food. Even though my stomach's unsettled by everything going on, it _is _pretty hard to pass up this food. The course now—I've lost track of the number—is some sort of stew, with large chunks of beef that keep falling apart, some peas, some chunks of potato, and some tiny baby carrots—which for all I know may actually be grown that size. Just looking at the stuff makes me hungry.

Of course, I've already had plenty of courses, so I'm still full, even if I do want to peck at this a little more. I get down one last piece of beef—it hardly compares to any beef I've eaten before; this stuff really does, pardon the cliché, melt in my mouth.

The servants have started to clear the table of this course when Shaw returns. Korea isn't with him.

Waiting for a waitress to pass before he settles in his seat, our Victor shakes his head and says, "Kid doesn't want to come out, he doesn't have to."

"Right," I respond lamely, wondering if that means I shouldn't apologise. I do, anyway.

Shaw leans back to let a waitress set a new plate in front of him before responding. "No worries. I have plenty of time to waste."

I nod in response as another servant gives me a new plate. It looks like dessert; I'm not quite sure what it is, but it's bready and drizzled with chocolate. I'm really too full to try eating the whole thing, but curiosity forces me to take one bite.

About as amazing as anything else I've had today. My tongue wants more, but I just can't put the fork in my mouth again or I think I might throw up.

I'm definitely not used to this much food. I'm lucky enough to not be one of the Seam kids—my blonde hair is evidence of that—but I'm not the mayor's daughter or anything. Anyone in District 12 but that family has some money troubles. But I'll be glad I wasn't born into a mining family.

The thought of being trapped storeys and storeys underground, in darkness, with the ever-looming threat of explosions or cave-ins... It makes me shiver. I'm definitely glad I wasn't born into a mining family. To think I'd have to do that almost every day once my next birthday came around...

Of course, now I probably won't have that next birthday to begin with, huh? Since the Capitol decided I have to die. Since 47 years of slaughtering children isn't enough for them... And I don't think 48 years is going to do it, either.

How could they ever get starting with this? What could have possibly possessed them to torture innocent children, year after year after year?

I don't know. I just know I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it. The capitol... It's just too strong for one little girl like me to take on. I just have to... have to sit back... have to stay and sit and watch... Just like always...

"I'm here!"

Several clatterings and thumps follow, and I look up in confusion as someone storms into the room. It's Korea.

"Sorry I'm late!" he pants, taking an empty seat. A bewildered waitress eventually decides to start him off with the first course.

"So, we're still cool, right?" he asks, glancing at Shaw, who doesn't respond for a moment.

"You didn't miss anything."

"Okay, great!" Apparently Korea thinks this answered his question. "I'm so going to kick butt in this!" Seeing Shaw isn't paying much attention, he turns to me. "Did you know I'm named after an ancient country?"

"I... think I've heard of it?" I respond slowly.

Korea decides to hold up his fists for emphasis as he continues, "Did you know Tae Kwon Do came from Korea?" Before I have time to respond, he continues, "and Kung Fu, and karate, and boxing, and wrestling, and fisticuffs!" He finally cuts off, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say.

"So... You know all of these?" I start, unsure.

"Well, no, but they're in my blood!"

"All... right, then."


	7. Getting Dressed Up

**Snuff Eitchpy, District 3**

"...and I think we could go for a few quick highlights here," my stylist continues in her nasally voice as she points at a few spots in my hair. I shift uncomfortably, wondering why I can't put my clothes back on if they're down to musing over my hair.

"Stay still, darling," the stylist responds, pushing my shoulders down a little. Now that she's said that, I feel much more fidgety. And my nose itches. I don't think she'd appreciate me telling her that, though.

She and her assistants continue to circle around me, and the stylist keeps pointing out random things wrong with me until she finally leads me off to get started.

And once we do get started, I have to wonder if I was seriously just hoping we would get to this. How much hair do these people have to rip off of me? I don't even have any not-head hair! Or at least I thought I didn't. Apparently everything on my arms and legs and face and _everything_ is covered in it, though, because it sure hurts when they pull it off. And at this point I'm not sure if I have any eyebrows left. There wasn't anything wrong with my eyebrows! Why do they have to spend so long plucking at them?

After more hurting and more awkwardness—because it's _impossible_ to do any of this with a scrap of clothing anywhere on me—they douse me with a spray tan I apparently need and then leave the room. It takes me a second to figure out they must be getting my outfit. I'm at least grateful no one's here, since it's a lot less awkward to be naked when nobody's looking at you.

I only get my solitude for a minute, though. The stylist comes back in alone with something in her arms and draped over her shoulder.

"You're going to love your costume, darling," she informs me, laying the bundle of clothing over the back of a chair so she can remove the protective wrapping. She fumbles with the plastic for a moment before taking the outfit out and holding it up.

"Tah-dah!" she says, giving her arms a jerk so a ripple goes down the costume, making the wires gleam. They must be painted on, since they're so thick but move right along with the shiny, green fabric. I'm guessing the whole thing is supposed to look like an old circuit-board. It's missing a lot of stuff, but it does look pretty neat.

The stylist instructs me to step in, but it takes a lot of struggling before I get the thing on. It's slick and skintight, and I'm already starting to feel a little overheated. But I can handle it. I haven't had to work at any of the factories yet, but I've had to shadow my older sister a while, and it gets really hot in those buildings sometimes. So if the arena's hot, I've totally got it. I probably am not going to be prepared for anything else, but I could at least take some heat...

I don't know. I'm not going to do that well. I'm only 12—and I've only been that for about a week—and I'm not that strong or anything. I kind of... I don't have good odds. I'll try to get out and everything, but I'm really not that optimistic about this.

My stylist takes me over to a seat surrounded by mirrors, and, after telling me not to sit down, works with my hair. I don't know how she can take so long, since they already highlighted it or whatever, and I don't have weirdly-long hair or anything. But she takes her time, and then we move on to makeup. I've never worn makeup and was never particularly planning on it, so we end up with another nice layer of awkward as she brushes all kinds of powder on me.

She finally finishes up after nearly poking my eyes a couple of times, and then she gives me some shoes. They're hard to put on since my suit stretches over my fingers, but I slide them on. They're really heavy, but they look like they're covered with actual circuit-boards.

"All right, darling, I think you're presentable now!" the stylist says, heading for the door. "Let's get to the chariots."

Taking a deep breath, I clop after her.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

"We have to get your makeup on! Quit crying!"

"My sister was in here!" I wail, continuing to clutch at and bury my face in the curtains. "_My sister was in here_—!"

"You just now figure that out?" the stylist grumbles, trying to unclamp my hand from the fabric. He doesn't make much progress.

My sister was here! Right in this room, getting all dressed up before—before—

"Lovi!"

"Stop that! We have to get you ready, you're already dressed up, so we just have to put your makeup and things on, and we're done. But you have to stop crying first!"

"Lovi…"

The stylist finally gives up with a grunt and walks off.

I don't want to be here! Lovi—Lovi was here, getting dressed up in that sm-smokestack outfit… And then she went ot the chariots, and now I-I'm g-going to the chariots, and then she—she—

I can't do this! I can't do this! I know what it's like in there—I could feel some of what L-Lovi was feeling—and—a-and—I can't do this! _I can't do this_!

Shaking, I try to find a spot of the curtains not already soaked. I have to get on my tiptoes.

I hear the stylist walking back towards me. Why can't he leave me alone? Why can't he just…

I cling tighter to the curtains, but he doesn't try to pry me off. Instead, I feel a little pinch in my arm. An odd coolness sweeps across my arm just before everything goes black.

* * *

><p>I'm groggy and confused, and it takes me a minute before I even realise my eyes are shut. I open them a sliver. Before I know what I'm seeing, I feel that I'm upright, leaning against a wall. Once my vision comes into focus, I can make out some people I don't recognise wandering around. And chariots and horses.<p>

I must be about to get on one of those…

Senses still bleary, I slump down against the wall. I don't think anything's going on right now, so I guess I have nothing to do.

I wonder if there's any paper around here… I feel like drawing something… Don't know what.

I look around the room drowsily, but there doesn't seem to be anything to draw with. I'm bored…

My feet start to get numb and tingly, so I start wandering around. Some of the pillars holding up the ceiling are mirrors. There's so much glitter and jewellery everywhere it's hard not to be dazzled, but I'm still too out of it to notice much. I do catch my reflection in one. I'm in some sort of dress that looks like metal but doesn't feel like it on the inside. My hair's been tied back with some sort of cloth that also gleams silver.

I think I'm wearing makeup. I can't really see it on my reflection, but I feel something crumbly-feeling on my face.

I'm still sleepy…

I traipse away from the pillar and look around the chariots. The horses are pretty. I try to pet one of them, but it gives me an angry look, so I scamper away.

I don't like being left alone here… Everybody's kind of ignoring me… I wish my boyfriend was here. Well… I guess he's not really my boyfriend anymore. We were fine until L-Lovi… When she… I kind of forgot about everything else… He wouldn't wait for me forever…

I look around the room again, and this time I swear I see him in amongst the crowd. But I take a second look, and it's not. It's just someone else with blonde hair and blue eyes.

I'm starting to feel a little less sleepy now. Is it just the crowd getting louder, or is some of whatever happened wearing off? I sweep the room again and suddenly seem to remember these people are going to be out to kill me. Just like those ones th-three years ago were all going to kill L-Lovi…

I realise the boy who looks like my boyfriend is staring at me. My response is a squeak, and I quickly hide behind one of the mirror pillars.

Why was he looking at me? Was he trying to figure out how easy it would be to—to—

"Everyone in your places!" comes a voice through a set of speakers. "Chariot rides start in five!"

The crowd immediately starts to disperse, and I find myself being shoved past a few times before someone grabs my arm. I yelp before realising it's my stylist. Then I just start whimpering.

"You hear the man, get to your chariot. You're right next to the circuit-board chap."

He pushes me towards a boy in a slick green suit already pacing around the top of one of the floats, and I quaveringly step on next to him.

A moment after I remember how Lovi felt standing on this thing, I discover my makeup is waterproof.


	8. Riding Around

**Ilber Schmidt, District 7**

This is the most idiotic costume ever. I should not be dressed up as a tree. Trees suck. That's why we kill them and grind them to pieces. Trees are not scary. The only way they can kill people is if they fall on them. That's not threatening.

You know what would look threatening? A lumberjack costume with a huge freaking axe. That would look threatening. And it would fit. But did the stylist like that idea? _Noo_. So I'm stuck in a stupid tree costume that looks stupid while I have to stand here stupidly because I can't move my arms in this stupid thing.

Man, this sucks.

I mean... Frick. The people can barely see me at all in this stupid thing. We're supposed to be showing off, but somehow the idiot stylist decides it's better to show off her work than my muscles. I mean, come _on_. You can screw with the fancy stuff when you get a weakling tribute, okay? But when you have a _real _fighter, it's completely stupid to cover it all up. I mean, I'm so wrapped up in this thing I don't look any bigger than my district partner, and she's, like, three years younger than me.

But yeah. This is stupid. I just have to stand here while the horses drag us around wherever. No moving, no flexing, and definitely no showing off by catching those flowers the Capitol chicks keep throwing.

Well, if the girls are tossing flowers at me, I guess they remember what I look like from the reapings and stuff. That's good. That means all of this is _completely pointless_, but at least it doesn't make me look stupid just because the stylist is. The Capitol knows what I've got to throw at them. They shouldn't forget just because I have to stand still on this stupid chariot. Or at least they'd better not. I'm going to win these Games, so they'd better support me.

Not that _I _need them to. It'd just be better for them to support me. Since I'm going to be the Victor, and it would give the Capitol more bragging rights if they were backing me from the beginning. That sort of stuff.

Wonder how long this is going to take. Not the chariot rides—I already know these take for-_freaking_-ever—but the actual Games. Depends on the arena, I guess. We'll have our normal bloodbath, since we have Careers from everywhere there should be, and if they screw up, I'll get a few kills to make up for it. I'll be joining the Careers. They can't say no to someone like me. I'm too strong.

And we'll see what happens from there. A bunch of hunts with the Careers, and at some point I'll kill them off, too. Shouldn't be hard. They don't look too strong this year. I wouldn't bother allying with them if they were totally weak, though. I'm sure they'll have good enough scores. Lower than mine, but good enough. I don't really need any allies, but if I don't get food or water donated because, hm, because no one can tell how strong I am since I'm in such a stupid outfit, then I'll take my pick from their goods. Careers always have tons of sponsors, especially since they've been on a winning streak for the last couple of years. I'll take some of their junk until I get enough sponsors for myself, and then I'm done with them.

They look like a bunch of idiots, anyway. Especially the guy from 1. He's the poster-child for guys sticking their noses up in the air. Snoot. I hope he dies quickly. I don't think I could put up with him long enough to wait and kill him myself. Of course, I haven't actually met him yet, but he's not making a good impression.

But that's all a long way off. There's still the time at the Training Centre, which is going to be boring since I have nothing to learn, and interviews. And, of course, I have to get through this stupid chariot ride first. But then the Games start.

And they're going to be awesome.

**Saki Beebul, District 7**

I really don't like not being able to move. I'm an active person. I like to be running around and playing sports or doing _something_, and standing completely still for so long my toes get numb is not remotely similar to that. It's nice that I get to be in a really cool-looking costume, but I want to move around!

Ugh. I guess I can't do anything about that. I'll just... stand here. And be bored.

Can I at least get a book or something? I like books. Which totally seems like a contradiction for an athletic girl, but whatever. I still like them. I'd love to be reading one now, if someone could just come by and slip one of those fancy voice-activated electronic ones in the fake branches that come down just in front of my eyes.

Yeah, I'm thinking that's not going to happen.

Oh, well. I'll just stand here and think, I guess.

I wonder how well I'm going to do in the Games. I haven't had to do much work hauling around logs since I'm only thirteen, but that doesn't mean I'm weak. All of those sports—well, just soccer and basketball for the most part, although I've toyed around with some other ones—and the training that goes into that is sure to help. The thirteen-years-old thing is sort of an advantage since I'll have pity sponsors or something. That's always good...

What's it going to be like in the arena? They've had all kinds of weird things, so I can't guess. I try to think of everywhere I've seen on TV. Forests, deserts, icy wastelands... And there was that cool mountain thing with a bunch of little environments on it.

Yeah, I'll admit it's cool. All of it. Well, it's still totally wrong, but that doesn't mean it's not cool. If I act like those aren't real people on the screen, I really do like watching. Especially the fighting. And the blood.

But that sounds kind of scary, so I'll move on.

I'm not really excited to be in it, though. I could die. And those people on the screen are actually going to be _people_-people, dying right in front of me. I... I'm not sure what I'll think about that. I hope I won't enjoy it as much as I do from in front of the TV screen. That would be really bad. I kind of like having a conscience of some sort. It's really pretty nice.

But I will be trying to survive. I know I could do it. If I need a lot of endurance to go plowing through whatever environment the arena is, I've got that. I haven't been in fights with people, but I know I could throw a punch, or I could definitely kick them pretty good. The killing part, well, that's going to be something I can't predict, but when it comes to surviving, I should be great.

And I have to get out. Obviously, I don't want to die, but I have to get back to my family and friends, too. My parents are going to be so upset, and my sister's probably going to be bawling every time she looks at the screen and remembers I'm in the Games.

Man. I hope I can win this. That's all I can say.

I just notice the horses coming to a stop, the chariot's wheels freezing shortly afterwards. We're almost done. Just one more speech...

Unable to keep paying attention to the president, I end up looking over at one of the huge television screens. It's showing the tributes from 6, who don't even match since the boy is wearing a hood-cape-cloak-y thing. Then the image switches to us. These costumes really do look pretty cool, despite the discomfort. We're not on-screen for long before it switches again. The girl from 8 is crying, while her district partner seems mildly annoyed by this. The Nines are silent, even though the girl is waving and smiling at the remnants of audience still cheering. The guys from 10 aren't doing anything, and the 11's are just standing around, too. The boy from 12 is walking frantically in little circles for some reason, and then the cameras go back to the president and stay there.

The speech finishes, and the horses clop their hoofs in place for a second. Then they start off again, and I'm at last being pulled back towards the Training Centre, where I'll finally be able to get out of this tiny jail cell. I can't get there soon enough.


	9. Interesting Group

**Osso Torya, District 1**

It's lunchtime in the Training Centre. I'm the first Career through the line, and I seat myself silently at a table in the middle of the dining area. I have just enough time to place a sharply-creased napkin in my lap before someone joins me.

"Hey," she starts, setting her tray at the place across from me.

"Hello," I greet with a short nod. "You're the girl from 2, yes?"

"That's right." She sets down a fork she was about to use and holds out a hand to shake. "Magya Garrison."

I return her handshake. "Osso Torya. Nice to meet you."

"Same." She takes her first bite of the meal before looking to her side for a moment. "What do you think about the tributes this year?"

I shrug, cutting a triangle of steak. "Same as usual, I suppose. Our Career group is certainly going to interesting, though. Especially if we let in that... Ilber." I turn back towards Magya. "Do you think we should admit him into the alliance?"

"I don't see why not," she replies, adjusting her hairband so strands of brown aren't sticking out anymore. "It would be better to have him as an ally than an enemy, I think." She smiles slyly. "And he's pretty cute."

Unable to respond at first since my mouth is full, I roll my eyes. "You should know not to start thinking like that."

"Oh, I know; I'm not serious." She sighs. "But you have admit, it sure looks like a lot of tributes are trying to flirt with each other. That boy from 11 hasn't left the girl from 5 alone all day, and my own district partner seems unusally obsessed with that Feli girl." She shakes her head. "It's not good for anyone. This kind of stuff can't last here, and it's no good for them to let themselves be open to that sort of pain."

"I suppose." I take a sip of my drink. "I don't mind about the non-Careers, but your district partner? We'll have to put an end to that."

"Yeah..." She twirls a long strand of hair in her fingers before going back to eating.

I turn to my food as well. This Capitol fare is certainly of the highest quality, though as I'm from one of the richest families in the richest district, it's really not much of an improvement. Nothing is much different, apart from some of the technology.

The arena is going to be burdensome. I can handle as many fights as I need to, but living off the elements is going to be horrid. But then, I am a Career. We'll still have the best food of the lot, and some successful hunts are all it takes to keep the donations coming.

We'll still be sleeping in bags rather than expensive mattresses and trekking through some sort of inevitable filth rather than well-kept carpet, but I'll survive. Even if I have yet to experience it firsthand, I've been trained as long as possible. I wouldn't be in the Games if I was not prepared.

I also wouldn't be in the Games if it were not for my parents. I find no particular joy in the idea of killing, but my parents want to add an extra bit of fame to the name Torya. I suppose I'm somewhat of a pawn, if one chooses to look at it that way. I don't mind. I have to do something with my life, and constant luxury is really quite boring.

So, this should be exciting. Not all that fun, perhaps, but certainly exciting. We'll just have to see where it goes.

**Livna Wickham, District 1**

I've only just sat down at the Career table when a tray clatters onto the table next to me.

" 'Sup?" the newcomer greets with a grin, sliding into his seat.

"Not much," the girl from 2 replies with an amused smile as Antonio takes a swig from his glass.

"Well, good thing I'm here to shake things up a bit!" He cuts into his dish of chicken in tomato sauce.

"I guess so," Magya responds.

"Ah! Guys!" starts another voice approaching us. "Can we sit here?"

It's the boy from 2, with Feli in tow. Before my district partner can question why he's dragging a useless girl with him, Antonio announces loudly they're welcome to be here. The 2 seats Feli before himself, and then Feli starts whimpering about not wanting to be around Careers and some blubbering about her grandfather. 2 assures her she'll be safe and tells her she'll feel better when she's full.

"Yeah, the food's great," Antonio puts in, crunching on a piece of celery. "You'd better enjoy it while you can."

"After all," starts another Career, just now swooping in and leaning close to Feli's ear before continuing, "you won't be alive much longer."

Feli immediately starts wailing, while 2 starts screaming at the girl from 4, who shrugs amidst her laughter and says she was only joking.

Now Ilber sits down next to me. He announces his arrival loudly before leaning back and throwing an arm over my shoulders

"Close contact," I yelp without thinking, pushing his arm back off.

"What, you don't like it?" he starts, sounding offended.

"Look, you're incredibly hot and all, but I'm really not attracted to you."

"Let's pretend that makes sense," the girl from 4 responds before putting a piece of sushi in her mouth.

Ilber gives me a look before scooting closer to me experimentally.

"Okay, I'm leaving now." Having finished most of my meal anyway, I just toss the tray where the signs say to put it and go back to the stations.

There's not much to do. I'm not going to feasibly learn any new weapon skills in three days, and I've been trained, anyway. The other stands are no fun since most of them are just a bunch of related survival books thrown together. There's really not much to do except creep on the other tributes.

I end up coming across the archery station, where Ise seems to be doing surprisingly well and Norge and the boy from 10 are watching with interest.

I look at the two watching for a second before walking up behind them.

"Hey, you two are cute. You should kiss." I push them together.

The boy from 10 raises an eyebrow suggestively, and Norge immediately shoves him away a little harder than is probably legal.

"Oh, what? I wasn't being serious!" 10 responds with a grin, holding his hands up defensively. Norge doesn't seem to hear him and goes back to watching Ise shoot.

Well, that didn't quite work.

I wander off to find more tributes. A lot of them are eating lunch still, so most of the stands are vacant. I end up meandering to the station with my preferred weapon. The worker there, apparently unaware I'm a Career—I guess I can't blame him since I'm sort of... on the small side—asks me if I've ever dealt with axes in my life. I say yes and remind him I'm from District One. He apparently doesn't get the point; he's only confused how a person from the jewels-and-other-sparkly-things district has experience with axes. He lets me play with the bigger models, anyway.

I've embedded the blade in several parts of the wooden training posts when I notice someone standing by the edge of the station. She waves at me before stepping closer and extending her hand.

"I'm Magya, from 2," she starts as I prop my weapon against my leg to shake her hand. "You're from 1, right?"

"That is indeed right," I respond with quick words. Apparently the jumbled reply was funny enough to warrant a laugh from Magya.

"So, you're Livna, right?" she starts.

"Er..."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she says before I can say anything else. "I haven't quite gotten everyone's names down yet, so you'll have to excuse me. Was I close?"

"Oh, no, you got it right," I respond apologetically with a weak laugh. "It's just, uh... You know, we can't get to know each other too much, and it would be weird to have the other tributes calling me by the same name as my friends."

"Oh, okay. That's perfectly reasonable." She pauses. "So... What _do _you want us to call you?"

"Ah." I hadn't thought of that. I ponder for a second, drumming my fingers on the handle by my knee. I stop, looking down.

"You could call me Ax."


	10. Instant Allies

**Den Copen, District 10**

Right after that Career girl leaves, Ise decides to wrap up his practising. He hands the instructor his tools and, stretching his right arm out, turns towards us. He seems very vaguely startled, like he didn't know we were here or something.

But whatever. Now I can ask him for an alliance.

I take a step forward, but Norge got there first. Seeing the two talking, I pause.

"Are you guys brothers?" I start, forcing myself into the conversation. They immediately give me nearly-emotionless-but-cold looks.

"We're not even from the same district," Norge deadpans, obviously still not pleased with me. Ise just nods in agreement.

"Okay, okay! You just look weirdly alike, that's all."

They look at me for another moment before turning around and continuing to talk.

...All right! I guess I'm not going to be allies with those two! Well, that sucks. I could have used a good archer. But hey. There are plenty of other tributes.

I waltz around the various stations for a minute before coming across the animal-skinning spot, where two girls opposite each other are trying to choose the right knife for the job.

"Hey, ladies," I start, swooping in and putting my arms over their shoulders. The taller girl doesn't seem to notice, while the other looks up at me bewilderedly.

"Um, hello." She tries to shake off whatever awkwardness she's perceiving in this. "How are you today?"

"Doing all right," I reply, "but I would be better if I had a few allies."

"Yeah?" she responds, looking up at me. She doesn't seem entirely convinced when she says she could use some allies, too.

"Well, looks like we're a perfect match, then!" I respond with a grin and a wink. She laughs weakly.

"I d'n't tr'st h'm."

The shorter girl and I both turn to the girl who just spoke.

"What did you just say?" I start.

"She said she doesn't trust you," the first girl answers for her.

I look back and forth between the two before my gaze rests on the shorter one. "How did you understand that?"

She shrugs. "Well, she kind of mumbles, but it's really not that hard to figure out..."

"Huh..." I turn back towards the taller one. "So what's your name?"

"S' H'lm's." I look at "S' " for a second.

"Yeah, no, couldn't make out a word of it."

The nicer girl half-sighs, half-laughs. "Her name is Sui, and I'm Tina."

"I'm Den," I add, leaning a little more onto Tina. "So, Sui, how do you not trust me?"

Sui mumbles something else I can't begin to make out. I immediately point at Tina.

"You. Translate."

Tina laughs before answering, "She says she just doesn't."

"Well, that's not a very good reason," I respond, smiling at Sui, who goes back to poking through the knives.

"I guess I wouldn't mind allying with you," Tina starts, "but..." She glances as Sui, with whom she's apparently already allied.

Shaking my head with a smile, I take another step towards Sui and crouch down right in front of her.

"Aw, c'mon, Sui," I half-beg without losing my smile, turning up the charm. "You seem pretty strong, I know I'm strong... What's so wrong with watching each other's backs out there?"

Sui looks at me blankly for a second before turning back to her synthetic animal to skin.

"F'ne," she says without looking at me. "B't I st'll d'n't tr'st you."

"I heard 'fine'!" I announce victoriously, sending Tina into another giggle fit.

"Great!" I continue. "Glad to meet you two ladies, and happy to have an alliance. I'm sorry to leave, but I should probably check out some of the other stations..."

"All right. Should we meet tomorrow at lunch?"

"Sounds like a... _date_," I reply with a smile and wink. Tina shakes her head at the ulterior suggestion bluntly but doesn't quite suppress all of her laughter.

I wave them goodbye and start looking for a station with some nice, heavy weapons.

**Plutonia Agnelli, District 10**

I walk through the lunch line slowly since no one's behind me. I take a good five minutes longer than necessary to pick out my meal before I finally survey the tables.

So... What did he look like again...?

I slowly and nervously walk towards the lunch area, trying to find the boy my mentor told me to ally with. Let's see... He was blonde, and one year younger than me. Not that I can really tell how old a person is by looking at them, but...

I end up making a large circle before I finally recognise him, sitting at one corner of a table a bit away from some others who are blatantly ignoring him. Holding my breath, I shuffle over and quietly put my tray across from his. He glances up to look me in the eye, and I already start to feel flustered.

"I'm Plutonia," I start, voice a little dry from the training I've done this morning to avoid contact. I'm not scared of him or anything, but... I don't know. If I mess up and he doesn't like me, what will my mentor do? Not send me anything?

Well, Den already refused to ally with a skilless thirteen-year-old, but I don't think he'll be punished for it as long as I ally with the guy. I don't know. I'm just doing what I've been told to.

"Shiran," the blonde responds to my greeting. He seems a little cheered by someone coming to sit with him. I wonder, was Shiran as lonely as his brother was, back before either of them got reaped? Or is he just glad someone who's not much of a threat to his life is talking to him?

"Nice to meet you," I continue systematically. Having no idea what I'm supposed to say next, I dig through some of my mash.

"You, too." Embarrassingly enough, he seems to have already finished his meal. He just leans his arm on the table and makes a clicking noise with his tongue. "So... What district are you from?"

"Ten," I reply, glad he asked something that could be answered so easily.

"Oh?" He sits up. "Do you know Amer?"

"U-um... He's my mentor..."

"Oh..."

I cringe, wondering if he'll be angry for me making him look dumb.

Then he bursts out laughing.

"I guess I should have known that, huh?" he says, still grinning.

"Y-yeah?" I laugh weakly.

He trails off his laughing and looks down at his empty tray.

"S-so," I start before he can leave, "do you want to be allies?"

He looks back at me, and I start to fear I was way too blunt about things.

"Well... Sure, if you want to," he finally responds in a happy tone.

"Okay!"

He gets up to leave, and I start to follow him before I remember I barely even started eating. I awkwardly sit back down. Shiran pauses to look at me.

"You wanna meet at one of the other stations or something?"

"Yes, that sounds good! Um..." I have no idea what would be a good station, so I put a few more scoops of potato into my mouth.

"How about..." He looks around the near by stations. "...Camoflauge?"

"Okay! That sounds great!"

He smiles at me before going off to put his tray up.

He seemed awfully happy for a boy who's been through what he has...

I start to feel a little cold. Did I get the wrong guy? I think his name was Shiran, but there are a lot of names that sound close, and a lot of the people here, including me, are blonde, a-and... But... I think he looked a lot like his brother. He definitely had some of the eyebrows.

It feels silly, but I scan the area looking at other people's eyebrows. The only ones relatively thick enough aren't blonde, so I think I'm safe.

Okay... So I did it. Good. I have an ally, and I did what my mentor told me to. That's a good start.

I'm not sure how it'll go from here, though. I've only ever worked at a packing station, so I'm not one of those in-shape cowgirls. I'm not very strong at all, and I'm still only fourteen... I really don't think I'm going to win this. I'm not sure why I'm going to try. I don't know. Just because I should. Because my family and my mentor told me to.

But I will be trying.


	11. Not the Average Career

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

It's hard to keep from fidgeting as the stylist continues to pluck out more tiny chin hairs than I thought I ever had.

Could she hurry up? I don't know exactly why I want her to, but I'm getting seriously impatient.

I guess I want to go check on Feli. I heard the last time she was being made up she had a complete breakdown and had to be sedated. I couldn't get into her room, but if she's already dressed and everything, I could track her down.

But she wouldn't want me to, would she? I couldn't get her to stay with me any longer than that one lunch. She's too scared, and apparently her grandfather told her to stay away from the Careers. But... How am I supposed to protect her if she won't join us?

And I have to protect her. I love her. I... I saw her before, in dreams. And now she's been reaped, the same year I volunteered. It's fate... It couldn't be anything else...

I mean, I know it sounds kind of dumb, to fall in love with a girl just because she's been in a few dreams, but... You know what? Everything about love sounds stupid if you try to explain it too much. So... So there.

I try to stay still as the stylist investigates my face thoroughly to make sure there's not so much as a microscopic piece of hair left. She finally decides I'm somewhat presentable and goes off to get my costume.

I exhale loudly as the door closes behind her. Just a little longer...

She returns with my outfit, a plain, stone-grey suit.

At least I got a stylist who doesn't put her tributes in ridiculous getups. She is of the opinion that just because I have muscles doesn't mean I need to go to everything half-naked.

She still won't let me put the thing on myself, though, so dressing up takes a minute. Once she's finally satisfied with how my collar is folded, she takes me over to the mirror section of the room for the finishing touches.

I bother to ask her if we really have to put on eyeliner and mascara, but she just laughs before telling me to half-close my eyes. I grumblingly comply, and she puts more makeup on me than I think my mother wears. My blonde hair gets slicked back, and, after adjusting my collar one last time, the stylist releases me.

I immediately seek out Feli, but she's still being dressed up. No one keeps me from waiting outside the door.

So... What should I say to her? She's definitely scared of me—there _is _good reason my interview angle is stoic but dangerous—but what could comfort her? I already told her I love her, but I don't think she believes me. So I guess I'll have to prove it. But I can't really do that until there's something to protect her from, so... So I have to wait until the Games. Except I have to comfort her now, or she won't be with me in the Games, anyway.

Oh, this is such a headache! I'll just... I'll just have to make her stay with us until she realises she's happier that way. Right.

About the time I've decided I don't have anything to say to her right now, the door clicks open, and Feli stumbles out. She's so flustered about tripping over the too-long hem of her dress to notice me at first, but she seems to sense me looking when I step back in surprise. She takes one look at me before whimpering and hurrying off.

I look after her in despair and confusion for a second. Then I realise my face has probably been set in its usual steely glare. I swear at myself for being an idiot, and then follow Feli's path.

I'm careful to make sure I don't actually catch up, and I end up standing around by myself until I'm told to get in line for the approach to the stage. I end up finding my district partner first, and we start to arrange ourselves.

I apparently forgot I would be right next to Feli.

I can't help looking at her, but she only whimpers again and presses closer to her district partner, as if he could protect her from a 17-year-old Career.

I look back away with an angry exhale, and Feli, assuming I'm angry at her rather than myself, starts sniffling.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I mutter, restraining myself from turning to face her.

I don't get to hear her response before we're ushered onstage.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

I take a deep breath as the line of tributes starts to approach the stage. There's nothing to be worried about. Just an interview. I just have to be charming for a few minutes and sit back down. Not so hard.

Though I do wish I were dressed differently. I'm used to more modest clothing—I'm not ashamed of my figure or anything; I'm actually quite pretty, or so I've been told—but I generally prefer wearing something less flashy. I actually end up wearing boys' clothes a lot. But I can wear a dress. And I am. A much too low-cut one, at that, but I'll manage.

The line stops, and I turn to take a seat gladly. Just a few minutes of walking in these heels is killing my feet. I'll take sneakers over these glimmering things any day, all right?

I spread the lacy, yellow folds of my skirt over my knees as Caesar introduces himself.

So. My angle is some sort of "girl next door" act. Sweet and compassionate but smoking hot. It's sort of an odd angle for a Career, but it's the only one I could do well. I'm not one of those crazy Careers in this for the bloodshed. The murder of tributes is horrible, doubtlessly.

But the rest of the pain is so much worse. Not only have people been tortured, they've starved and burned and just withered away, so slowly... I want to save at least one Games from so much of that. I go for the neck. Kill quickly. Before they can suffer, either from death or just the stress and hunger of the arena.

And this way, their friends and families won't be so bad off, either. They'll still lose their loved ones, but they'll at least know it was quick.

...All of these siblings... How many times are the Gamemakers going to play this trick? I've heard from my styling team they're starting to get bored of it. So maybe they'll stop after this year. I know it won't last forever, but... Neither will the Games, right? They have to stop eventually.

But not for a while, I don't think. Certainly not before we go in ourselves. I can't say whether or not I really hate the siblings being reaped. On one hand, the family has to suffer more loss, but it's much better for the siblings. They can't feel pain if they're dead.

So that's how I ended up here. Going through all of that training and putting my own life on the line at only seventeen years of age. I just really want to help these people. And this is the only way I can do it. It's impossible to pick out everyone who's been hurt by the Games. Not to mention security's a wee bit too tight in District 2 to go on a killing spree without being gunned down.

So, this is the best place to start. Sparing twenty-three children of the full-blown pain of the Hunger Games. This may be the most I can do. I'm not denying one of the other Careers could kill me before I'm finished.

But I know that in the arena, no one's going to stop me from serving compassion. I can't say if I'll be able to do any more good if I get out, but I'll try.

First things first, though. Here comes my interview.


	12. Musings

**Antonio Spey, District 4**

I do my best to lounge in my chair while the tributes before me do their interviews. Even though this chair's pretty uncomfortable. You'd think the Capitol could come up with better than this. Of course, they're kind of into torturing the tributes, so I guess it's not too unexpected.

I go ahead and watch the other tributes before me, but I don't really listen to them. The girl from 1, Ax—or as Caesar calls her, Livna—doesn't really have much of an angle, though she doesn't switch around during the interview or anything. It just doesn't stand out much. The boy from 1 is using some sort of high-and-mighty angle, which may be the only thing he can do, anyway.

Magya's angle is sweet but sexy, which, paired with her outfit, works, eh-heh, pretty well. Then comes Sheen, who's being stone-faced and dead-serious. It's like him, except when Feli's anywhere near. And considering she's right there, I'd say Sheen's doing a great job of staying in-character.

Next are the Threes. Feli's trying to go for a cheerful, lovable girl, but she's a little too close to tears to pull it off quite right. Her district partner's angle is mischievous, and he pulls it off well, though I do still get the feeling he's acting. My district partner comes on next, acting very amiable but curiously bloodthirsty.

Her buzzer buzzes, and I rock onto my feet with a grunt. I sweep a few rinkles out of my suit as I approach the interviewer.

"So, Antonio," Caesar starts, throwing an arm over my shoulders like we're old buddies, "how are you going to win these Games?"

I put my arm over his shoulders in return. "Pretty easily."

"Pretty confident, are we?"

I laugh. "With good reason."

"And what is that good reason?"

"Well..." This pose is starting to get uncomfortable, so I pull away from Caesar a bit. "Same old, same old, you know? I'm strong." I pause to slide up my sleeve and flex. A few ladies expectedly swoon. "I'm good at climbing, and swimming, and running, all of that good stuff. hate not to say anything more interesting, but that's just how I'm going to win."

"Well, it may not be original, but if it works, it works, right?"

"A-yes. And it does work."

Caesar pauses almost unnoticeably to come up with the next question. "So, what are you fighting for? Have a nice family back home? Maybe a girl?"

"I have my Mom and Dad, and a few younger siblings." I pause, finding a camera and waving at it. "Hey, Fili! You ready to watch your big brother win?" Still smiling, I turn back to Caesar. "As for the second part..." I chuckle, looking out at the audience with a glint in my eye. "I am still single." A decent portion of the crowd starts cheering.

Haha, this angle's pretty fun to go with, isn't it? In all honesty, it's not quite that contrived, but I'm having a lot of fun up here.

Caesar and I spend another minute joking around, with a substantial amount of flirting with the audience on my part, before the buzzer goes off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Antonio Spey, District Four."

I wave a short wave to the audience before turning and getting back in my seat. The girl next to me, in an almost awkwardly-poofy dress, gets up and scuttles towards Caesar.

Well, my part went by pretty well, I think. It was a breeze. I think I got myself a few more sponsors with that, too; maybe some of those girls who weren't sure if I had a girlfriend are going to support me so they can pretend when I get out that I'll be interested in them. For all I know I might be, but the way those Capitol girls are, I doubt it. I'll just find someone on my own, I guess.

Honestly, that Feli girl's pretty cute, but, you know, she's obviously going to die and everything. So that's not much of an option, either, sadly. And Sheen's after her for whatever reason. Maybe he doesn't quite realise they can't both get out alive.

But I'm sure he does. He's a seventeen-year-old Career, just like me, so he's had enough time to figure out only one person can be the Victor of this Games. We all know that. The weak people probably try to forget, and some of the lovestruck ones just ignore it. But that's none of my business.

I'm just here to win.

**Journs Sykop, District 4**

Now that my interview's over, I don't have anything to do. I could listen to the tributes, but I do that every year, and it never changes. Lady-killers, nervous but sweet kids, beauty queens, and awkward freaks. There are a few variations, but they're nothing special. And everything's an act, anyway. I'm not gaining anything from this.

Staring at the tribute after me, I get so bored I start imagining what would happen if I were able to jump over and rip him to bloody, gory, little pieces. Ah, it looks so pretty in my mind. Blood has such a beautiful colour, you know? And the shining, crimson textures on mutilated flesh are so much more interesting than bland, rough skin.

And if I go past my district partner? Well, Caesar's right next to him, so I guess he'd have to go next. I wonder if he knows how weird he looks with that orange-yellow makeup on. It would be much prettier if it were soaked in blood. Maybe I should have suggested that. He could try it some other year.

So, how would I kill him? Well, I just ripped a guy to pieces, so I need something juicier than that. Maybe... Hm. I could try cutting a little heart shape out of his neck. It would be like that one tribute who carved a smiling face into one of his kills. How long ago was that? I think I was thirteen... Hm. Oh, well.

So I have him bleed/choke out. Okay. Who's next?

I look down the row of chairs. The next person I can see is the girl from Five. Her dress is awfully poofy. It would probably settle down manageably if it were soaked. And I bet you can guess with what it should be soaked. So, how do I do that? The skirt and shoulders are the poofy parts. So... I rip out her abdominal organs like that one tribute did a few years ago—wow, I'm a copycat—and that should cover the skirt well enough. As for the shoulders... Well, I'd have to do it simultaneously, or she won't have enough blood left in her to soak it decently, but I guess I could just behead her or something. That would spill onto her shoulders, right?

Okay, so that's that...

My vision is suddenly blocked by my district partner sitting back down. Completely snapped out of my train of thought, I blink at him a few times, wondering what I was doing a second ago.

He notices me staring at him and laughs a little bit. "I hope that's not a commentary on my interview."

"Huh? What? Oh, no. I'm just being weird." I smile at him dorkily, and he gives a monosyllabic laugh before looking back at Caesar and the 5.

"So, you ready for the arena?" Antonio continues quietly without looking back at me.

"I think so. I've sort of been wanting to jump in for my whole life, so..."

He smiles. "Yeah, a lot of us are like that."

"So it seems." I close my eyes for a moment.

"So, no girlfriend, huh?"

He finally turns to grin at me. "Why, are you interested?"

"Um, like, definitely. Yeah, not so much." I find myself slumping back. "Played your angle well."

"Thanks. Yours was... very you-ish."

I laugh. "Well, thank you."

We're apparently done talking for now, and when the 5's buzzer buzzes, we don't start up again.

I cross my legs, wishing I didn't have to get dressed up for this.

But I'm all right. Because tomorrow, the Games start. And I couldn't be more ready for them.


	13. Take a Beating

Author's Note: I included a list of characters, just for those curious. If you're not sure which country is which, assume they're OC's unless their identities become clear in the plot.

Oh, and this has over 60 reviews. From just introductions. I'll spare you the real-life gleeful freakouts, but know I am very, very happy. Thanks for reviewing, guys~ :D

1 Livna Wickham, 16; Osso Torya, 18  
>2 Magya Garrison, 17; Sheen Sehre, 17<br>3 Feli Vargas, 17; Snuff Eitchpy, 12  
>4 Journs Sykop, 18; Antonio Spey, 17<br>5 Wy Micra, 13; Shiran Kirkland, 13  
>6 Bell Gique, 17; Aurth Unikin, 14<br>7 Saki Beebul, 13; Ilber Schmidt, 16  
>8 Paliss Crai, 16; Norge Oslo, 17<br>9 Tina Sinki, 15; Ise Javik, 16  
>10 Plutonia Agnelli, 14; Den Copen, 18<br>11 Sui Holmes, 16; Seborga Costa, 15  
>12 Owella Fehr, 17; Korea Im, 14<p>

Recommended Listening: Tom Sawyer by Rush

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><p><strong>Bell Gique, District 6<strong>

I find myself pacing the Launch Room as the minutes tick down. The thick but comfortable soles of my boots thump on the ground loudly, and the thin, beige jacket I've been provided with makes loud rustling noises as I walk.

My stylist doesn't feel the need to help me calm down. I'm not having a breakdown or anything, but I wish he'd say something. Not that he's known to come up with profound comfort, but still.

I try to calm myself down by putting my hands in the deep pockets of my hunter-green trousers. It doesn't work that well. I try running my hands through my hair, fiddling with the black belt's buckle, and drumming rhythms on my thighs, but nothing works well.

It's all right, Bell. Just grab whatever's right next to you in that circle and run for it. Nothing complicated. There's a lot more to the Games than that, but you don't know what the arena is, and it's no good worrying about it when you can't do anything about it.

I still can't say I've calmed down appreciably when the overhead tells me to step onto my plate.

**Wy Micra, District 5**

I hold my breath as the circle ascends to the arena. The darkness is stifling, but I'm soon thrust into daylight and nature.

The Cornucopia and its contents gleam inside a wide circle of sand. Other items lead from the Cornucopia towards starting plates in a precise pattern with twelve spokes. Three or four metres in front of me, the trails stop, leaving the bright, ashen sand to sparkle in its odd way. The grainy carpet stretches another metre past the circle of tributes before blending into unkempt grass and ferns. A bit farther back, the shadows cast by the ferns all blend, and rough, scabby tree trunks start to protrude from the landscape. The trees continue on, occasionally wrapped by smooth, shining vines, until all of the dark trunks and shadows blend into a murky brownness as far as I can see.

So this is our arena. It would make a wonderful painting, before everything is snatched away or knocked out of line by falling corpses. There won't be any beauty here in just a minute.

But, with any luck, I can keep myself from being part of that scene.

**Paliss Crai, District 8**

I've cried just about enough to quiet down to sniffling by the time my platform reaches the arena. I'm trying to wipe everything from my eyes so I can actually see when the announcer's booming almost makes me jump.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the 48th annual Hunger Games begin!"

I've finally gotten my vision mostly unblurred in a few seconds, and I look out in front of me. The Cornucopia's shining so bright I'm almost blinded again, but I look away in time.

The closest thing to me, other than the sand—which isn't very useful—is a folded, blue square of tarp. Which also isn't very useful. Unless it's secretly some sort of invisibility cloak. Which I'm pretty sure it isn't.

I look around for a second but can't find anything but other tributes.

The gong sounds.

I stand for a second, not quite processing the signal, before I step off my plate. Then I realise I stepped off in the wrong direction. I whip around and leap back over the plate, and then I keep running.

I'm grabbed from behind before I can even get to the jungle. I immediately scream, but I can't get myself out of my attacker's grasp before I'm spun around. I see Journs's grin for just a second before I'm thrown down, my forehead smashing into the edge of my platform. Blood splatters over the metal and starts to drip down into my eyes, but none of that stops me from shrieking harder. Journs silently—as far as I can tell, since my screaming is the only thing I can hear—bashes my head into the metal again, and she keeps ramming and ramming past the point I can still feel the searing pain. But I'm still howling.

And I keep howling until she cracks my skull open like an eggshell, and everything around me disappears.

**Seborga Costa, District 11**

The second the gong sounds, I take off for the box of matches near me. Luckily, the girl on the platform next to me doesn't go for it, so I snag it uncontested.

I spin and bolt for the jungle. I'm already the teensiest bit winded from my sprint for the matches, but I've got plenty of running power in me yet.

At least, until something slices into my back.

The sheer impact of the wide blade is so strong I start to stumble, but I manage to keep going as hot blood starts gliding down my back.

The axe strikes again. I hear something in my back crunch, and suddenly my legs go completely limp. I fall into the sand face-first, choking on some of the stuff that surges into my mouth. I struggle to pick myself up, but my legs won't move, and I'm in so much pain I'm not sure I could make my arms move. Losing my grip on the matches, I try to pull myself forward, but my head's already getting fuzzy from choking on sand.

Before I can make a centimetre of progress, the axe comes down through my ribs and into my heart.

**Owella Fehr, District 12**

There's not a chance I'm trying to grab anything before I run. There's no way I'd get out in time.

So when the gong sounds, I just release the breath I was apparently holding and jump off my platform in the jungle's direction. My foot sinks in the sand more than I thought it would, and I stumble face-first into sandy grass. Gasping, I push myself back to my feet and start running where I left off.

Good thing I wasn't next to Careers. Very good thing I wasn't next to Careers.

And those trees are good, too. It's harder for people to chase me through trees. I should be okay for now if I just get to those trunks quick enough!

I don't.

Before I'm quite past the length of ferns and grass, a sharp edge slits through the side of my neck. The pain sends me to my knees, and I attempt to cover the wound with little success. My vision's already blurring, but I can just see a throwing knife tumble to the ground in front of me.

I barely have time to realise I'm really about to die before I fall to the ground senseless.

**Snuff Eitchpy, District 3**

I haven't quite decided if I want to go for that bag of trail mix or not when the gong sounds. I jump but hesitate, and then I go sprinting for the bag. The boy next to me, the one from Eight, beats me to it, though. My feet slide around in the sand as I turn around, and I start back towards my plate wishing I had decided to just run.

I go just around my plate, and my feet get to the grass. It's so much more solid than the sand that I stumble, but I right myself before I actually fall.

I'm right in front of one of the trees when I'm suddenly shoved straight into the bark.

Yelping from the sudden abrasion of the wood on my face, I sidestep the tree, but a hand pulls me back.

"Let go!"

The hand doesn't comply, instead whacking me against the tree again. I land a weak backwards kick, but it doesn't stop the tribute from throwing me to the ground. I flounder, trying to get back up, but I'm dragged by my scalp until my chin bumps against a mossy rock.

The hand lifts me up, and I flail to escape but can't. My head is crashed back into the rock, and I have time to scream before I'm brought onto it again. This time my left temple meets the stone, and everything flashes to black.


	14. Escape

Recommended Listening: Barracuda by Heart

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><p><strong>Korea Im, District 12<strong>

The gong bangs, and I start running towards the Cornucopia. Halfway to the horn is a nice-looking fighting staff, and that's what I'm going for.

The tribute on the other side of the line of goods doesn't go towards them, so I have no worries. I grab the wooden staff and get back moving, sand spewing out from behind my shoes as they turn.

Haha! I knew this would be easy! After all, sprinting originated in Korea!

I end up stooping down as I run to scoop up a lone bottle of water in my path. As I draw closer to the jungle, a pair of sandals comes across my path. They aren't that useful, so I bypass them without a second thought.

Then something digs into the back of my neck.

I squawk and pick up the pace, but the attacker grabs my arm, and I trip. Before I can fall, I'm whipped around, and the sword swings towards the front of my neck.

"Hah!" I flip the staff into the way, and the sword doesn't have enough momentum to get through and make any more progress than a cut on my chin. I don't have enough strength in the one arm holding the staff to push Osso's sword away, so he withdraws it on his own and jabs it into my stomach. I make a gagging noise but manage to pull myself out of his grip.

With another yell, I spin the staff around to hit him in the shoulder. He doesn't drop his weapon but instead drives it back into my stomach. I struggle to hit him again with the staff, but the wood just bounces off him, and for the first time I start to suspect staff fighting did not originate in Korea.

I turn to run, but Osso wrenches my arm around to keep me from escaping and immediately drives his sword through my throat.

I fall to the ground choking and only get a second to writhe around frantically before my vision goes out.

**Wy Micra, District 5**

Though the shiny, black mini-torch a little bit in front of me is tempting, I turn and bolt for the trees once the gong sounds.

This is no time to appreciate the view. I have to get out of here as fast as possible.

It's a little hard to run on the sand, but at least I'm wearing shin-high boots that the sand can't enter. I'm aware this isn't quite the fastest I can run, but I'll pick up the pace once I'm running on solid ground.

I don't get that far.

My toes barely dig into the sandy shore of sorts when something penetrates my neck with a thump. Reflexes make me cough, but the blade isn't going to leave my throat, and I'm not making much progress getting the blood out, either.

I keep running, though it's unconscious as I know I'm not going to survive this. More and more blood blocks out more and more air until I stumble and fall, scraping the side of my head on one of the trees. I can't see any more of the scene as I finally hit the ground.

I don't even have time to cry for the life I've lost before I drown in utter black.

**Saki Beebul, District 7**

I take off like a bullet when the gong sounds. I've done more running than these Careers could dream of, so if anyone can make it out of the Cornucopia before they even get there, it's me.

I'm not getting anything heavy, so no weapons. Just food and water. Light food and water.

I get to the golden horn's mouth, as I suspected, before any Careers. Especially since most of them are otherwise occupied. I snatch the closest morsels, a small box of granola bars and a large jug of water, and turn.

The girl from 1 has gotten here, but I'm off before she can pull her axe out of the pile.

Another Career is running this way, but he's unarmed, and I can easily swerve to avoid him.

Ha! You guys can't kill me if you can't even catch me!

I get to the grass in just a second, and I'm between a pair of trees shortly thereafter.

A pain crops up in my side, but I don't stop running.

That's weird. I don't usually have my sides start hurting until...

The little sting suddenly flares, and I realise blood is running down my side. Without stopping, I look down to see an arrow straight through my torso.

I look back up and see I'm about to run straight into a tree. I swerve and suddenly lose my balance, landing on the side that took the arrow. Hissing, I struggle back to my feet with the help of a low branch. I take a few running steps before falling back over.

This hurts... This hurts...

I force myself back to my feet, but I don't even get the few steps in this time. I just fall right back over.

Swearing sharply, I drop my supplies and wrap my hands, shaking from pain, around the shaft. I rip the thing out with a stifled yell.

I don't notice the blade right over my head until it's too late.

**Bell Gique, District 6**

I'm indecisive about whether or not I'll go for the near by length of rope when the gong bangs. Without mentally deciding, I end up running towards the coil. The tribute next to me isn't running towards it, so I grab up the thing pretty easily before changing course and running away from the Cornucopia.

I take a path straight towards my plate, and I jump on it and back off fluidly. The slippery sand finally gives way to the grass, and I gratefully take a microsecond to adjust to safer footing.

I trample the ferns mercilessly as the trees draw closer.

Something pokes me from behind.

I yelp and stumble to a halt as Sheen swings around to face me. He brings his sword around towards my abdomen, and I jump back to dodge, but he jabs. My left hand is impaled and driven into a tree.

I scream and try to pull my hand away, but Sheen, realising I'm stuck as long as if he doesn't move his sword, resorts to punching me in the head hard.

I drop the rope and grab a branch with my right hand, and I swiftly bring my knees up to my stomach and kick out. I hit Sheen square in the stomach, and he can't stop himself from tumbling to the ground. With a grunt, he pushes himself up with his hands, but he's facing away from me.

Then he pauses.

I struggle to pull the sword out of the wood as Sheen stares for another moment. Then he takes off running, leaving me alone.

My pulse still racing, I tug and tug at the sword, building up several layers of splinters in my hand, before finally freeing myself. A quick sweep of the area shows me no one else has come up, but that doesn't mean no one will.

I allow myself one last loud cry of pain before picking up the rope and running off into the jungle.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

I don't even try to get any supplies. I just run.

No one comes after me, even though I keep checking frantically over my shoulder. I'm in the jungle pretty quickly, and now I have to worry about running straight into the trees. My pace slows a little bit, but I can't make myself slow down very much.

Something comes crashing out of the brush towards me.

With a shriek, I pick up the pace, though I end up not quite swerving to get around some of the trees. I manage to not do any damage but some scraping of my jacket and hands. I don't look back to see what's come after me.

"Feli! Wait!" I recognise the Career's voice.

"No!" I wail, picking up the pace.

"_Feli_!" He grabs my jacket.

I wail, running harder, but he won't let go. I take a look at the trees around us and manage to swerve towards a shorter one. I duck under one of the branches. Sheen doesn't.

He lets go, and I keep running for my life.


	15. Keep Moving

Recommended Listening: Never Been Any Reason by Head East

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><p><strong>Plutonia Agnelli, District 10<strong>

I went straight for the jungle when the gong sounded, and no one's caught me yet. My feet keep trying to trip over branches and clusters of odd flowers, and I have to keep ducking around so I don't get hit by scraggly branches.

It's hard to see in here. The sun is still shining horribly bright—the sheer heat of the jungle attests to that a little too much—but there's just so much tree above that light can't quite get to the floor. It's still not nighttime-dark, but it's impossible to make out details anywhere the dapples of sun don't fall.

I'm completely out of breath at this point, but I'm afraid to stop running. I'm not that fast, so if a Career caught sight of me and just got caught up doing something else for a second...

I continue to stumble through the trees, though I've had to go around so many trunks in the way I'm not sure if I'm still pointing straight away from the Cornucopia. I'm so breathless I start to feel sick to my stomach, and I finally stop and lean against one of the trees gasping heavily.

That's when something starts crashing through the brush towards me.

Alarm makes me push myself back to my feet, but I abused my legs so much in the run here I can't make them move again.

"'Sme!" comes a gasp before I can see who's after me.

It's Shiran.

With a sigh of relief—a really short one since I still can't breathe—I slump back against the trunk and end up sliding to sit on the mulchy ground.

Shiran takes a few staggering steps towards me before plopping himself down beside me. We both sit and rest for a minute before we can even try to speak.

"You're okay?" I start, swallowing hard after the words come out. Shiran nods.

"No one got to me." He breaks off for another handful of heavy breaths. "Few scratches from trees, though. You?"

"All right." I wipe some sweat from my forehead with my jacket sleeve. "Just tired."

We exchange nothing else until we've recovered aptly.

"Should we go a little further in?" Shiran starts, stretching his arms above him.

"I think so." I begrudgingly push myself to my feet, and,l once I'm stable enough, help my ally up.

"All right," he breathes, re-tying his jacket sleeves loosely over his neck. "Let's get going."

**Osso Torya, District 1**

"No, it should be mine!"

I sigh, continuing to clean the last traces of blood from my sword as Ax and Antonio continue to argue over who gets which axe. Antonio insists than since he's bigger, he should get the double-headed axe, while Ax contends that she got a kill before him, so she should have the better axe.

I give up listening at that point and put my sword in its sheath. From there I go on to the arrow I got in that Seven. We have plenty of arrows, but it's senseless to throw anything useless away. It's not much trouble, even though Antonio apparently didn't see the need to retrieve it, so I had to go out and get it myself. But a little walking won't kill me. The task gets my hands dirty, but we have water and cloth to clean them.

Meanwhile, Ilber's sorting through all of the swords. He frowns at the pile dissapointedly before looking over at the weapon in my sheath.

"How come you get the fancy sword?"

"Because my first kill was older than twelve."

"Oh, what?" Ilber splutters indignantly. "Who else did you want me to get? He was right next to me, and Ax was on my other side."

I shrug coolly, which only infuriates him more. "There were plenty of other tributes near enough."

"When the pack caves in, you're the first one I'm killing."

"I suppose you expect me to add that to the reasons I should allow you in the Career pack."

"Screw you."

**Ise Javik, District 9**

"And you couldn't get bow and arrow?"

I exhale as we continue walking. "The only one I could see was in use, and I wasn't going to shuffle through the Cornucopia for one."

Norge, as weaponless as I am, sighs. We don't say anymore because we don't need to. If we're too loud, we'll get caught, and nothing much calls for communication right now. We're alive, Norge got a knapsack with some food and a few pieces of flint, and we're trying to find a decent piece of shelter. Nothing to be said.

We keep trekking, occasionally notifying each other of depressions in the ground or branches in the path, but otherwise staying silent.

There are reasons for this besides getting caught. Sure, there's a little bit of water loss involved in talking, and Norge and I just aren't that talkative to being with. But at this point I'm not sure if I _could _say anything coherent. It's just so very, very... w-way too hot... It definitely doesn't help that I'm from the northernmost part of the northernmost district, where I grew up used to freezing weather almost all of the time. I'm not used to this. It's... _really _hot.

But I'll survive. It's going to be miserable, but I can get through this alive, even if it is about twice as hot as the sun. I just have to. That's all there is to it.

"Ise?"

I look up at Norge and realise he's over two metres ahead of me.

"Right," I croak, making my feet hurry up.

About the time I catch up with him, he turns a bit, walks towards a fallen tree trunk, and seats himself. I follow him just about exactly.

Well, this is great, isn't it? Show the very first day that I'm not going to be very... well during the Games. Norge is trying to win, too. If he thinks I'm useless, the alliance is off. It's already bad enough, since I don't have any arrows, and my archery skills are about the only reason he's allied with me.

I lean back against on of the jutting branches. It scratches my head a little, but I'm too tired to care. Though I vaguely register that I shouldn't, I close my eyes.

It's so hot... I think this kind of place would cause health problems... I don't know what, since we never had to worry about it in 9. They're probably from dehydration, though, right? We don't have any water. I'd really like some water. I'm thirsty...

Norge nudges me in the stomach, and I open my eyes. The images are still blurry, but after a few blinks I can make out a silver thing being held in front of me. It takes me another dazed second to realise it's a canteen.

My hands seem clumsy, but I'm able to take it from him.

"Just a little bit," Norge warns, lowering his arm.

I nod and put the amazingly cool metal of the canteen to my lips.

I don't think I've ever tasted anything this good. I can't imagine this is really just water.

I don't realise how much I'm drinking until the liquid suddenly stops coming.

Opening my eyes—apparently I closed them—I see Norge tipping the canteen away from my mouth. I'm back to my senses enough to realise the thing seems dangerously light now. I would have downed the whole thing if he hadn't stopped me.

Inside searing with anger over how much of a useless leech I'm being, I force myself to let go of the cool metal. Norge puts it away in his bag. He doesn't seem that angry, but he doesn't have much of a range of expressions, so it's hard to tell.

I just hope he's not thinking the same of me as I am right now.


	16. Alliances

Recommended Listening: Feelin' Alright by Joe Cocker

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><p><strong>Den Copen, District 10<strong>

The girls and I are pushing through branches in a quest for water of some sort.

I'm still pretty disappointed I didn't get out of the bloodbath with anything more than a cleaver. I guess it's better than nothing, but, man, I wanted an axe. One of the girls got a canteen of water, but it's already almost gone.

It's just too humid in this place. We're going to dehydrate ourselves to death before anything fun can happen. Ah, well.

"Hey, Sui, you doing all right back there?" I call without turning around as we keep moving.

"Y'h." I think that sounded affirmative. "It's j'st a fr'k'ng s'na 'n h'r'."

"I know; isn't it nice?" Tina responds cheerfully. I can feel the weird look Sui gives her.

Tina laughs weakly. "Well, you know, District 9's really cold, so those of us who are a little better off rent saunas. Well, not all the time—that'd be way too expensive—but on special occasions, like Christmas and that kind of thing."

I finally realise Sui had said it was like a sauna in here.

"Well, I guess that's not too weird," I say, smiling at Tina. She smiles back awkwardly.

"So, Sui," I start, though I'm not sure why as I don't think I've come any closer to understanding her, "you're from 11, aren't you? It's hot there, right?"

"Y'h, b't it's n't th's st'nk'ng h'm'd."

Ahaha, yeah, not a word.

Tina looks at me amiably but like I'm hopeless. "It's not this humid at her place."

"Oh, all right, then."

We keep moving.

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

Panting heavily, I stumble through the last of the trees and back into the sandy circle. The rest of the Careers are already assembled by the Cornucopia casually, chatting and bickering amongst themselves.

"...some of us are trained in more than one weapon."

"But if you can shoot arrows, why the crap do you even _need_ a sword?"

"I prefer swords."

A furious Ilber glares at the ever-cool Osso as the latter drums his fingers on his ornate sword hilt. Osso looks up and just now seems to notice me.

"Where have you been?" he starts, voice even but eyes glaring.

"Trying to hunt someone down," I reply, making it sound like I was doing my job, as I near the Cornucopia.

"By 'someone', I assume you mean Feli."

"I do not mean Feli! I was just trying to find any tribute to kill," I lie.

"I didn't hear any cannons."

"I... I wasn't very successful, all right?"

"So you didn't find anyone?"

"Not a soul," I defend evenly, though I'm only getting more flustered inside.

"Then what happened to that sword you took?"

I swear mentally at being so easily painted into a corner.

"There was a mutt." Luckily I'm not too awful at thinking on my feet.

"And it took your sword?"

"Swallowed it whole."

Osso looks at me evenly, weighing my excuse.

"All right," he finally says. "But no more running off on your own. There are likely some alliances—and mutts—that could kill you easily as long as they can gang up on you."

I grit my teeth. This guy's pretty high-and-mighty, isn't he? "I've been taught this."

"Well, don't forget it again."

I'm not convinced he isn't still suspicious, and I still don't like his attitude, but at least I'm off the hook.

I walk silently through the group and start to look through the remaining weapons. It looks like I'll have to use a blunt mace until someone loses a sword. I take it without complaint. I can work with this. Maybe we'll get a sword donated, anyway.

...I'm not sure how this is going to work out. Can I really get away with being a Career and protecting Feli? I mean, I've trained my whole life for being in the pack. I don't know how to survive without it so early in the Games. But I can't just leave Feli all alone, unprotected...

I don't know. I'll... I'll keep an eye out when we hunt, and... I guess that's all I'll be able to do for now.

Frustrated but resigned, I seat myself on a vacant spot of sand. There's not much going on, and I don't think there will be until lunch. Magya is carefully organising her set of throwing knives and listening to Ax bemoaning being stuck with the large but single-headed axe. Ilber keeps finding reasons he should have Osso's sword that Osso continually knocks down, and Antonio and Journs are chatting about something that apparently happened in District 4 a few days ago. And then there's me, sitting here and tossing the mace between my hands.

I hope we'll be a little more cohesive as time goes on. They're probably all a little suspicious of me because I've been a little too public about my feelings for Feli. And the last thing I need is to be the outsider in a group of trained killers.

We'll just have to work it out, I guess.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

I hope I don't fall. I'm really high up in this tree. But I don't think anyone can see me, because I definitely can't see the ground. And that's good, because I don't want anyone to find me. I'm not going to be able to fight back. I didn't get anything from the Cornucopia. No food, either. I'm hungry and thirsty, but I haven't gotten any donations or found anything.

I hope I don't starve. I don't want to die.

Quivering, I shift in the branches. It's not comfortable, but I don't think it'll be that easy to fall from here.

Leaves rustle, and I jump, looking wildly for the source. I finally see a little bird cleaning its feathers near by before it takes off, rustling the leaves again.

I don't like this place. Even if I have to be in the H-Hunger Games, why did it have to be a jungle? My sister was in a jungle, so I was, too. Back to the same heat, the same sounds, the same shades of green... Back in the arena again...

But I'm alone this time. No one's watching over me. The only person that wants to is a killer. I guess Spain was, too, but he didn't mean it. Sheen's only here to kill people. I don't want to... I don't... My sister was killed by Careers... I was killed by Careers...

Feeling surreal again, I curl up, even though it's too hot.

I just don't want to be here. It's scary. Please let me out. Someone, somehow, just please...

No one comes before I nod off.

**Aurth Unikin, District 6**

This is certainly an interesting arena. I'm glad I left it to surprise. A seemingly random circle of sand surrounded by jungle, which stretches to a fast-flowing river—where I am now—that separates the trees from a longer stretch of sand beyond.

Of course, I'm the first one to reach what must be the only body of water in the arena. Between this and the fact that both of my neighbours in the original circle just so happened to run for the Cornucopia leaving me unharmed, I'm quite sure that last-minute spell of mine was effective.

Well, of course it was. My spells always work. Unless I don't need them to. I'm so skilled my spells don't use up energies unless I really need their effects, even when I don't know beforehand that I don't need them. Rarely have I truly required a spell back in District 6, but now that I'm in this competition, I'm sure I'll need magic quite a bit more. But no worries. As I've said, it always works when I really need it.

So here I am now, unhurt and surely safe for a good while. I have plenty of water right in front of me—though as I don't quite recall the time-slowing spell, it will be quite difficult to obtain very much at a time without being dragged away by the current—and I managed to get some food from the sandy area. This is going to be as easy as I expected.

I settle against a tree trunk, my hands folded comfortably behind the Hood, and watch the river splash by.


	17. As Night Approaches

Recommended Listening: Lights by Journey

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><p><strong>Bell Gique, District 6<strong>

The sun still hasn't set, but I'm done travelling for the day. I still haven't reached anything but more trees, though I did get some water donated, but I just can't walk anymore today. I'm sweating like crazy, and, despite the little canteen I got, I'm so dehydrated I think I'm going to throw up. Not that I've gotten to eat anything _to _throw up. I have a sword, but I don't know how to use it, and I'm not much of a hunter, anyway.

That's a problem, seeing as I obviously don't have enough sponsors. I got a tiny bit of water. That's all. Nothing for my hand.

I look at the appendage, and the sight of it makes me a little more naseous. I haven't been able to attempt getting all of the wood out, even though I'm pretty sure that stuff is far from clean. I have no doubt this is going to get infected with nothing to help it.

In that case...

A little chill goes down my arm.

This hand's almost useless, anyway. I can't move any fingers but the index and thumb. All it's doing is causing me more pain.

The sword I have is still pretty clean at the top. If I really need to, I could... I could just chop my hand off...

B-but that's jumping into things. Maybe I'll get some disinfectant tomorrow. R-right. No need to be hasty about something like that.

I have some difficulty finding a tree with branches low enough I can use my good hand and my elbow to climb, but I manage to get to one and pull myself up the first set of branches. That's literally as far as I can go. I should have stopped travelling earlier. This isn't very safe.

But then again, I guess nothing is very safe in this place.

I settle myself in the branches, though it's really uncomfortable and not quite as stable as it should be. Hope I don't fall out...

With an exhale, I close my eyes.

And, just in case I don't wake up tomorrow...

"Love you, Mom. Love you, Dad. Love you, Ned. Love you, Luxy."

I doubt the screens are tuned to any cameras that see me, but they're surely recording. Maybe they would never broadcast it, but... I don't know. At least I would know those are my last words.

All right, this is getting a little morbid. I could last another day. Let's... just get to sleep now.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

Apparently Tina's not used to being in a sauna for this long. At this point, she's lagging behind me, while a slightly put-off, slightly amused Den slows his pace for us.

It's starting to get dark, even more so than usual, I mean. Everywhere the sun hits is a dull orange rather than yellow, and while I'm sure the heat is dying down I can't tell. I'm already soaked in sweat, and it's too humid to evaporate, so I'm stuck stewing in my own juices. How Tina could enjoy this sort of thing for any stretch of time amazes me.

And how can Den not be suffering? 10 is right next to 11. Can the climates really be that different? I guess they're both pretty big districts, though. And it's not like I've been able to study any of the other district's climates, anyway, so I suppose it really doesn't concern me.

But that's not all I find about Den a little off-putting. There's just... something I can't trust about him. He sort of has that aura, like there's something behind that grin that's a bit more malicious... And he's the only one with a weapon. He's the only one that's presently in fighting condition. And it's also a little suspicious he ran off to the axe station the second after he made an alliance with us. It's just... Hm.

I don't know. Tina doesn't seem to find anything wrong with him, so maybe I'm just a little too sceptical. We'll just have to see.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

Plutonia and I reach a shore by sunset. I'm the first one to start splashing around in the water, since she's such a worrywart. It's not like I'm going in too deep, and the waves are really gentle. I'm just glad I have a way to cool off after all that walking.

I finally convince Plutonia to at least put her feet in, so she sits on the rocks and moss and grass that's right at the shore and watches me decide whether or not I should go out a little further. The water's only shin-deep here, and I'm a perfectly good swimmer from all the time I spent at a pond right by our house.

I go ahead and walk in further.

"Don't go in too far," Plutonia starts anxiously.

"I won't," I respond, almost laughing at her concern before I realise it's completely founded.

I keep forgetting I'm in the Games. I want to. I'd definitely rather think this is just a nice break from working and having to look after Mom. But it's not. Mom's going to be more worried than ever. Am I making it worse by doing this? I... I don't know... She's going to be freaking out either way, but...

I end up swimming around, but I don't let my head go underwater. Just in case that helps.

It's so nice in here, though. I love swimming, anyway, but the water seems so much cooler when I've been covered in sweat all day.

If only this wasn't salt water, though. I guess we must be on some sort of island, so it would be weird to be surrounded by fresh water. But we only had a little tiny bit to drink today, and I'm really tempted to try to drink this anyway. But I know that's a bad idea. It'll just dehydrate me more, somehow. I didn't read that much of the survival books, okay?

By the time the sun's half-set, I decide to dry off. As I wade back towards the rocks, I catch Plutonia splashing some water on her arms.

"I thought you said you didn't want to get wet!" I call.

She jerks, looking up at me. "Oh, well, um..." Flustered, she stops splashing.

I laugh. "Well, you don't have to stop! I was just saying."

"Oh, right!" She looks down in confusion for a second before deciding to rinse her arms off a little more.

"It's nice, isn't it?" I say, already starting to heat back up as I wash my socks out.

"Mmm-hmm." She kicks her feet in the water a few times as the sun continues to sink. "Do we need to go find shelter?"

"Yeah, probably." I grin. "Unless we can get some snorkeling tubes and hide underwater all night!"

Plutonia blinks. "I'm not sure about that..."

"I was joking, dummy!" I laugh, nudging her.

"Oh. I... knew that."

"Sure, sure." I get my boots back on. "C'mon, let's go."

**Livna Wickham, District 1**

We just about finish our dinners by the time the sun goes down. Osso, putting his empty plate—which, incidentally, _had_ to be covered with the highest quality food we had—on a clean piece of tarp we spread out earlier, announces immediately that it's time to hunt.

"It's too early for everyone to be asleep," Ilber protests, probably just for the sake of contradicting Osso.

"Alliances take watches," Osso replies, getting to his feet. "We can never guarantee everyone will be asleep. Now," he continues before Ilber can say anything else, "who's watching our supplies?"

Journs scoffs. "I think one of you two—" she points to Osso and Ilber—"should, or everyone's going to hear you arguing before we can get to them."

"I'll do it," Ilber volunteers. "That is, unless Mr. Pansy over here would rather stay so he doesn't get his shoes dirty."

"I'll be fine," Osso retorts evenly. "It's better for the leader to be present on the first hunt, anyway."

"Well, I guess this _isn't _the best arrangement, then," Ilber fires back.

"Oh, forget this!" I put in with a groan. "Ilber wins the argument. Now can we go?"

Ilber shrugs, and Osso nods.

"Let's get going, then."


	18. Trust

Author's Note: BLEEDING 100 REVIEWS BY THE BLEEDING EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER

*faints*

*comes back to write the chapter*

Recommended Listening: Welcome to the Jungle by Guns 'N' Roses

* * *

><p><strong>Norge Oslo, District 8<strong>

Ise and I are still somewhere in the middle of the jungle when we finally decide to turn in for the night. We found a nice tree with leaves large enough to hide us completely once we're in the second set of branches. And we can push them aside ourselves to get a decent view of the ground.

Ise needs a lot of help climbing up, and what makes things difficult is that I'm not in the best shape, either. The heat's taking a toll on all of us, though thankfully it hasn't been nearly as bad since the sun went down.

I hope the Careers are worn down from this, too. They can't be too immune, right?

Well, I guess hoping is irrelevant. If they're worn down, good; if they're not, I just have to fight them harder.

I poke around some of the leaves to find the best lookout spot.

"I'm keeping watch," Ise announces quietly.

I look at him, unsure.

"I may not be in the best condition, but I can stay awake." He meets my gaze with weary determination.

I back up and let him get to the best lookout spot.

"Don't close your eyes," I say before shuffling into a stable nook.

"I won't," he mutters unnecessarily.

This really isn't that safe a move—the kid's been exhausted all day—but he has to do something. He's furious about being such a liability. And he is one, at this point. I may not be used to heat quite this bad, yet I'm still practically dragging him around.

But it's far too early to think of abandoning him. He's still a proficient archer. We just need to wait for enough funds for bow and arrow, or find them ourselves, and he'll be the more useful one in the alliance. I suppose that's dangerous, but it's more dangerous to abandon him before he gets his weaponry. I think he could hold a bit of a grudge for that.

I know we'll turn on each other eventually. There's no choice. But we have an alliance. It's not meant to last, but it's better for both of us while it does. So I'll hang on.

Hopefully he will, too.

**Osso Torya, District 1**

I lead the group silently into the trees. We try to remain quiet, and there's plenty of leaves and mulch beneath us to cushion our footsteps, but there always seems to be someone bumping into a rustling bush or stomping on a twig.

But I'll be patient. If I chew someone out for making noise, I'd only be making more. Besides, we should get used to the arena after a few nights, or at least the area nearby. I'd rather like to have a few kills the first night, though. But we'll just have to see.

The group pushes through the wilderness as the moonlight starts to disappear in the leaves overhead. It's going to be difficult to see, especially when tributes will be hiding. But it will also be difficult for them to see us. They're much more likely to make a mistake and be heard or seen than we are. Good old training.

We continue further, some of us occasionally climbing suspicious trees, without finding anyone.

Sheen is the first to break the silence.

"Should we split up?"

I pause, leaning towards a tree as some sort of bug flies past my ear. "Why do you suggest that?" I keep the suspicion out of my voice.

"Maybe all of us together is too loud, you know? We could be more successful in pairs or something."

"There are too many alliances this year," I dismiss. "We're not invincible."

Sheen doesn't respond, and I continue to lead, checking back on him every once in a while.

A creaking comes from somewhere to my left.

I immediately freeze, and Magya accidentally bumps into me. Luckily she's not stupid enough to ask questions, and we're still silent when something drops to the forest floor with a thump.

I've no sooner recognised the silhouette as human than I've drawn my sword and started running. Only Magya and Antonio stay right behind me as I reach the other tribute.

The shape, apparently only just awoken, drowsily and confusedly starts to push itself to its feet. I bring my sword down on its neck before it gets the chance.

There's only a short, sharp shriek before the shape falls again. A cannon fires soon—apparently I did hit the tribute right where I thought I did.

I start to step back from the body when the faint gleam of metal catches my eye. Hesitating, I lean back and pick up what the tribute dropped.

I'm still silent as I nudge between the Careers by me and step to the main group. I look Sheen in the eye and throw the metal to the ground in front of him.

"It's the sword your mutt swallowed."

Turning around without another word, I watch the hovercraft pick up what could have never gotten Sheen's sword from a muttation.

Not that any of the rest of his story made much sense, either. How could a mutt swallow the weapon whole without leaving a mark on either of his hands? Even if it knocked the sword away, Sheen would have to have some sort of injury to show for it. He wouldn't drop his only weapon from a slight impact. He's too strong.

Of course, that's the only reason I haven't killed him yet. The tribute field seems pretty strong this year. This bloodbath was half the size of last year's, and this Career pack certainly isn't weaker. I need to keep us intact, or it won't be pretty when we run into a strong alliance. And Sheen was one of the three of us to get an 11 in training. He's of use to me yet.

That is, if he ever gets over that Feli girl. She's the only reason he could have let this tribute get away, with his sword no less. She's probably the reason he wanted to split up, so he could sneak off and look for her before we could kill her. I'll have to take care of this fairly soon. Who knows what he'll do otherwise?

I don't. I don't know everything, but I'm in charge, and I'm going to keep this pack as strong as possible.

At least, until I have to kill them.

**Ilber Schmidt, District 7**

I am so not taking this job again. No one's going to come for the Cornucopia. No one's done that for freaking years. And that was just because the Careers were a bunch of incompetent idiots. And we're not incompetent idiots this year. Except Osso.

But anyway. The tributes should know to avoid us. And they do. No one has shown up. Not even a freaking bird. No one's even come close. There's seriously no rustling or anything. Urgh. Like I said, not doing this again.

But whatever. If I don't run off, which I won't, the Careers will have more reason to trust me and blah blah blah. Whatever. We all know none of us can really trust each other, considering we're all trying to kill everyone else. But at least Osso might be stupid enough to trust me a little more for this. And, I mean, I am a real part of the Career pack. So hey. Maybe he'll like me enough to realise I'd be a way better leader than him.

But probably not.

I'm still leaning against the Cornucopia and staring up at the cloudy, black sky in boredom when the others finally get back.

"Just one sucker tonight, huh?" I start, knowing I couldn't have possibly missed any cannons in this near-silence.

"May as well pace ourselves," Osso replies, just to be a numbskull.

"Pacing ourselves is boring," Journs puts in with a shrug as she approaches the Cornucopia's mouth.

"You think everything that's not killing people is boring," Antonio snickers as the girls retrieve all of the sleeping bags.

"Uh, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"You're a psycho, Journs," Ax deadpans, unrolling her sleeping bag.

"Why, thank you," Journs responds, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The sleeping bags are all set out, and Magya volunteers for first watch. I get in my sleeping bag, and the boredom can't give way to sleep soon enough.


	19. Food and Water

Recommended Listening: Don't Bring Me Down by Electric Light Orchestra

* * *

><p><strong>Aurth Unikin, District 6<strong>

I wake up about dawn.

Well, no one's found me yet. As expected, of course.

Come to think of it, I probably should have memorised some protection spells along with the curse or two... Ah, well. I'm sure curses will do, anyway. They're working so far. Hopefully I'll win the Games soon. I'd hate to use up all of my magic in this one event. 'Twould be a shame.

I pace leisurely at the river's rocky side. I haven't gotten my donated breakfast yet. I could probably go without, anyway. I've enough strength in me already.

I pace a bit longer as the sun and the heat both rise. Only when I break into a sweat do I realise how thirsty I am.

I kneel down by the bank and dip a hand in the current. My limb is immediately yanked sideways, and I have to remove my hand for fear of getting my arm ripped off.

The current's as fast as yesterday, I see. Why didn't I memorise that time-slowing spell? Tsk! I should have thought this out a bit more, I suppose. Ah, well. I'll still win. It's impossible for me not to.

I stick my hand in again, this time drawing it straight back out. The motion displaces most of the water, but I end up with an egg-sized puddle to lap up. After repeating this a few times, my thirst isn't quite so desperate, but my hand feels a bit too yanked-around to try for much more.

I pause for a moment, wishing momentarily that the Cape could be some colour that didn't absorb sunlight so well. It's very hot in this. But, no, I should be grateful I have the Cape at all. Yes. It's not that troublesome, after all. Just a bit hot.

I deliberate for a moment before leaning to try my water-fishing with my left hand. This way, I'm opposite the current, so I have to twist my wrist uncomfortably. To make up for it, I sumberge my whole hand to get more water.

I get more that I bargained for when I'm swept away headfirst.

**Plutonia Agnelli, District 10**

Shiran and I are back to walking along the shore. There's no sand right here, just mud and pebbles, so it's really not that pleasant walking barefoot. But the water's still cool, so Shiran and I are both wading along with our boots and socks bundled in our arms.

It's not quite so hot here as it was in the trees, I think. Or maybe I'm just a little more used to it. Or maybe it's actually a little cooler in the mornings. I don't know. Guess I'll probably find out if we keep going.

Shiran isn't talking that much today. I guess there's not much to talk about, but... I don't know. He's usally so cheerful and everything, this doesn't seem natural.

Except I guess I actually think his being cheerful is unnatural. I've had friends who had siblings killed in the Games. They're complete wrecks. But Shiran's just... a thirteen-year-old. Moody silence is what I'd expect from him, but he just doesn't seem to work that way. Even now, he's not distressed or on the verge of tears or anything. He's just quiet. Tired.

Tired. That must be it. It's only the second day, but, then again, we've done a whole day's worth of walking and running. If we had that sort of day at home, we'd probably spend most of the next day sleeping and recovering. But we can't here. We have to keep going. Going and going until we find someone.

I'd rather keep going than find someone.

Shiran and I keep going on without talking, but that doesn't mean it's silent. Some static-sort of noise has started up, and as the sun keeps rising, the sound gets louder. It's more of a hissing, rushing noise now, but I still can't identify it.

By the time Shiran yells, "Whoa!", I can barely hear him over the noise. He picks up his pace, forcing me to do the same. We round a corner, and Shiran slows to a stop.

Right in front of us is a huge, horizontal waterfall. Water from somewhere underground makes the narrow river froth and hiss, while water shoots downstream in an impossibly fast current. An actual waterfall, though it's extremely short, is a few metres to our right, while the saltwater we've been splashing around stays comfortably in its curving sweep around us.

"This is so cool!" Shiran exclaims, his voice fuzzy in my water-assaulted ears. He splashes a little closer to the source of the river. "Do you think it's fresh water?"

"I hope so?" I respond, though even I can't hear my voice over the rushing river.

Shiran kneels down and starts to put his hand in the water.

"Shiran!" I yelp, tugging him back. He splashes into the saltwater butt-first, not very happy about it.

"That could be dangerous!" I warn him, leaning towards his ear so he can hear me this time. "It's going way too fast!"

"Okay, okay! Sorry." He pushes himself back to his feet. "I'm really thirsty, though..."

"I am, too." I look over at the river. "Well..." Remembering he won't be abel to hear me, I turn back to his ear. "It's splashing an awful lot. We could probably... um..." Realising I was about to suggest snatching it mid-air, I trail off.

"Oh! Like, catch it in our boots or something?" he exclaims, digging a sock out of one of his boots.

"Um, yeah! That's exactly what I was thinking!" I stammer, getting one of my own boots ready. "We'll have to," I go on to make it sound more like I really did think of this, "wash them out a little first, but I think it'll work."

"Sounds good to me!"

I smile nervously as Shiran crouches down, and the water starts splashing into his boot.

**Antonio Spey, District 4**

We may not be making the best progress so far when it comes to killing tributes, but at least no one else is getting to them. Noon already, and no cannons yet.

Maybe once we're done with lunch, we'll go on another hunt. Shouldn't hurt us much. And we shouldn't risk having the Gamemakers come up with a few mutts to do our jobs for us. There aren't many donations down that path, let me tell you. I've watched enough Games to know.

Kind of funny, though. The Gamemakers love their creations to death, but they'd much rather have us kill than those animals. Weird stuff.

I finish off my ration of dried meat and set it on our "kitchen sink", which is nothing more than a tarp spread out over the sand. The 2's already finished eating, so my plate's the third on the pile. Journs is finishing up her meal, the same as mine, now, while Ax and Ilber are too busy conversing to finish up theirs. And then there's Osso, who's certainly not going to rush things when he's eating his _gourmet_ stuff.

Yeah. He just has to have it fancy. He's already given us some explanations, but we all know it's just because he's such a pampered aristocrat he can't imagine having to eat more than one meal fit for a commoner.

Us, on the other hand, well, we're perfectly suited to eating those.

Jerk.

But hey, he's in charge. And it's not _that _terrible to eat dried meat. We'd be on it in a few days, anyway, since the better stuff doesn't last that long in heat. I'm not sure what poor Osso is going to do at that point. Heh. Guess he'll ahve to eat like the rest of us.

But, until then, I guess he'll be eating exactly where he thinks he is. Way above us.


	20. Out of the Blue

Recommended Listening: Once In a Lifetime by Talking Heads

* * *

><p><strong>Tina Sinki, District 9<strong>

Weakly fanning myself with my hand, I keep watch.

I was wondering why Den made us keep walking all of last night, but I guess it is a better idea to travel when it's cooler. Though I didn't get much sleep when Sui was on watch this morning just because it was so hot. But I am really tired...

I don't know. We haven't gotten many donations, but at least Den killed some sort of raccoon-ish animal for us to eat. But it was so hot we could barely make ourselves get close enough to a fire to actually cook it.

This place is just uncomfortable. It's almost hard to believe I could enjoy this back at home. Of course, I just spent an hour or so in a sauna, not a whole day and night. And I wasn't hiking and climbing and hungry and tired...

Oh, stop thinking like that. Sure, it's not the best place and definitely not the best time to be here, but... Um, I'm making new friends? Yeah, let's go with that...

I don't know. At least... I'm alive. That's always good. I have allies, so I don't have to be as worried as other people would be. And even more so, since Den has a weapon. So he can defend us from any other tributes. He's already gotten us some food. See, things aren't so bad. I'm glad I don't have to go this alone.

Exhaling, I cross my legs and continue to keep an eye out.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

After a bit of quibbling, since none of us want to stay behind, Journs finally begrudgingly hangs back as the rest of us prepare to go on our next hunt.

The more we hunt, the better. I want to whittle this field of tributes down quickly, even if it means going out in midday heat. No amount of sun will make me go back on my mission.

We start through the jungle, in the opposite direction of where we headed earlier. The branches are a little denser this way, so the bigger Careers—really, all the boys but Osso—do their share of getting scratched up and complaining about it. Osso hisses at them to hush, but this, of course, only makes Ilber snap back at him that he's "too much of a skinny little girl to get caught up like the real men".

"Real men don't whine like toddlers when their pretty, white skin gets scratched by branches of all things," Osso grumbles back quietly.

"You got a problem with albinos?"

"I have a problem with you in general."

"You don't know the half of it," Ilber spits.

Osso refuses to respond, and the boys are finally quiet enough for us to actually hear any tributes near, though we don't have any luck just yet.

It starts to dawn on me that another reason we're more quiet is the trees have begun to thin out. There are a few more flowers and bushes than ferns now, so we're more focused on not tripping than not getting skin and clothes scratched. Still, we don't have any luck finding tributes. They either didn't go this way or already passed. So we just have to keep going.

A little further on, we start to hear a lapping sound.

"Is that a river?" Antonio brings up, picking up the pace a little as the sound grows louder.

"I think so!" Ax responds, picking up her pace but still allowing Osso to reclaim the lead. We continue through the trees as they grow a bit sparser, and then we're finally right at the bank. A river flows past at a mild pace, splashing a little on the rocks and grass near us as well as the sand on its other side.

"Well, I doubt anyone's crossed this," Osso starts, scanning the river to his left.

"Hang on!" Sheen almost interrupts, pointing downriver. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Ax responds, looking over.

"Something just passed that way," Sheen explains, starting to jog in that direction.

"Better check it out," Antonio concedes, starting after him. We all follow, and soon enough, we see what Sheen must have caught a glimpse of.

It's the, ah, I'd rather not say "delusional", but... It's the delusional boy with the black hood, perched unstably on a ragged but decently large piece of driftwood.

I withdraw a throwing knife quickly as I run, but the river's tossing the wood along with the tribute in such a random pattern I can't get a lock on him. It wouldn't do anyone any good if I miss...

"Magya!"

I look back over to see Antonio looking back at me while he kicks off his boots.

"Can I use a knife?" he requests, dropping his too-heavy-for-water axe while stripping off his shirt.

"Yeah!" I carefully toss him one, which he catches by the handle and puts in his teeth before diving into the water. Being from Four, he gets hold of the current well and starts zooming in towards the floating tribute faster than any of us are running.

The other tribute notices this nervously and shifts his position. He somehow rises to his feet without falling, though he's wobbling considerably. Stretching out his right hand towards Antonio and the rest of us, he starts shouting some nonsense words before ending with:

"I curse thee!"

Absolutely nothing happens. Antonio continues swimming like a merman, gaining on the other tribute every second. We land-bound Careers can't quite keep up, so Antonio's almost out of sight by the time he's a metre away from the other tribute.

Before our ally vanishes over the horizon, a sudden flash of silver leaps out of the water before him and plummets back down. I can only see its tail for a moment before it's back underwater.

Then I realise Antonio disappeared.

We hurry after the other tribute, but we can only just see his blonde hair when a cannon fires.

"Ha!" he shouts victoriously, still standing. "Never doubt the power of—" He cuts off at a smaller splash as he presumably falls off the driftwood. But then there's a spluttering and a weak cry of "black magic" before we can't hear him over the river.

"...What just happened?" Ax finally starts.

"I... think Antonio... got eaten," I answer dazedly.

"By a freaking fish," Ilber finishes with a snort of laughter. "Loser."

I give him a look while Osso continues to stare at the water.

"Let's not try crossing to the other side," he starts blankly.

"You think?" Ilber responds.

"Whoa!" Ax suddenly starts, turning around and running while dropping her axe. She starts laughing. "I get the big axe now!"

Still a little shocked, I just follow the others as we wait for Ax and then start walking downriver.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

I curl up in the branches. I can't get to sleep, though, since the anthem starts blasting. I don't have anything better to do, so I go ahead and look up at the night sky. The faces are showing. First is a brunette Career whose name I don't remember. The next face comes up, and I only look at it for a second before I start crying.

Bell is dead? Bell shouldn't be dead! Bell is nice. She ate with me in the Training Centre. She even made me cat ears out of some of the camouflage stuff. That was fun. I didn't cry.

She shouldn't be dead. She shouldn't...

I keep sniffling quietly until the anthem finishes up. Then I make myself stop it. It's easier today than yesterday. I guess it's harder to cry when you haven't had anything to drink for two days.

Why can't I get any water? Or food? Does no one like me? But, then, why would they spend money on me? I can't win. I'm too weak. I can't fight anybody. I'm just waiting. W-waiting until s-someone... O-or I starve... O-or...

Unable to keep my crying silent any longer, I curl up tighter so maybe my jacket will muffle the sound.

I don't want to die... I don't want to die... I just want out of here...

I keep snivelling until I finally fall asleep.


	21. Unreliable

Recommended Listening: Dream On by Aerosmith

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><p><strong>Sheen Sehre, District 2<strong>

The pack's worn out enough from the trekking and running around today we decided against a night hunt. We haven't found anyone—including Feli—but there's no point in pushing ourselves so hard we can't fight when we actually run into someone. We'll catch some rest now and catch up on hunting later. No worries.

The last of the death toll flashes across the sky, leaving us in darkness.

"All right, then," Osso starts, "there's today's work. Now, who wants to take first watch?"

I hold my breath, and no one volunteers.

"I'll get it," I say, making sure I don't sound too eager about it. Osso looks at me and nods.

"Try to get some sleep tonight, everyone. We'll be heading out again by dawn," the 1 finishes before sweeping a few grains of sand off his sleeping bag.

I lean against the Cornucopia silently, drumming two fingers on my sword hilt. The other Careers turn in for the night without much chat, and, by the time my eyes have completely adjusted to the darkness, everyone's asleep.

I pace a circle around them, and no one stirs. After hesitating a few more moments, I pad off urgently but silently into the brush.

I'm going to find you tonight, Feli. Just hold on a little bit longer, and I'll be there.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

"Wakey-wakey, ladies!"

I rub my eyes open as Den, the last one on watch, shakes Tina's shoulder while removing his other hand from mine.

"C'mon, we're burning moonlight!" he chimes as Tina finally yawns and somewhat opens her eyes. He gives us a minute to get our bearings and then swings his legs over the side of the branch he's been sitting on.

"Everyone ready to go hunting?"

"Yeah, that sounds good!" Tina mumbles, stifling another yawn. "I _am _kind of hungry."

Den pauses for a second before laughing. "No, no, not _that _kind of hunting. There's no way we'd be able to start a fire in this without getting caught, huh? I'm talking about tribute hunting."

Tina stays uncharacteristically silent, and I don't do anything but look Den in the eye like he's gone crazy.

"Ah, come on, girls," he laughs, flipping his cleaver around in his hand. "You know we're not going to do very well if we act all 'peace and love with the world'. We won't get any real sponsors until we get some kills, you know? And it's not like I'll torture them or anything." We still don't respond, and he tries to laugh comfortingly. "Don't worry; I won't make you do the dirty work. We'll just split up, check out the area a little. If anyone tries to run from you, you should at least knock them out or something, but relax. I'm not going to make you actually kill anybody, not this early on."

"S' y're f'ne w'th k'll'ng?" I finally say. Tina translates.

"Well, not in normal life. I'm not a psycho. But, really, Sui, things aren't looking that good for us already. We've only gotten some water and stuff, right? If we want to not worry so much about getting our own food and cooking it right and eating whatever nastiness comes of it, we've got to earn the good stuff." He grins, leaning his head back against a branch. "And I want an axe. That'd be great. And some beer. I'm sick of all this lukewarm water."

Tina nervously shuffles away a bit. "Axes and beer don't sound like the best combination."

Den laughs, sounding more amused than he has been. "Oh, don't worry. I can take, like, three bottles before my judgment gets clouded at all, okay?" He puts an arm over her shoulders, not noticing she's slowly moving away. "Oh, come on, ladies. It's not like I'd hurt _you_."

There's a moment of nothing but his white grin flashing in the moonlight for a moment.

"Th'n wh't w'd you d' 'f we s'd n'?" He keeps grinning stupidly until Tina finally echoes, "Then what would you do if we said no?"

His smile fades a little. "Well, I guess I wouldn't really do anything. But all of us would be worse for wear because of it, you know? Come on, will you at least try?" he pleads. "I promise, it's only going to help us. And all you have to do is look around a bit."

We're silent for another minute.

"Okay, I guess it won't hurt," Tina finally mumbles.

"See! That's what I'm looking for," Den responds joyfully, shaking Tina's shoulder a little. "We're a team, you know? We're in this together, so we should listen to each other's ideas." He looks over at me. "So, Sui...?"

I exhale before nodding. I guess it won't do much harm. Anyone I find would probably run before I got back to report, anyway.

"Great!" Den hops off his branches and carves a little cross into the tree's bark. "We'll meet back right here. Try to find someone, but don't get lost, okay?"

Tina and I agree, but we linger in the branches a while after Den goes off hunting a little happier than I'd like.

**Ise Javik, District 9**

When I wake up, it's dark.

Why is it dark...? Did I doze off...? Crap... Well... I think... I dozed off around noon... It shouldn't be this dark. Is it cloudy? No, it's too dark for that.

I stir, squinting a little harder at the black leaves above my head. I only start to realise it's actually night when Norge's image suddenly looms over my head.

"Ready to get moving?" he starts.

Not even sure if I have any excuses left, I nod silently and force myself to my feet, though I still feel a little woozy. Norge informs me we haven't gotten any more water before turning and leading the way. I make sure I don't fall behind, though I really don't feel rested from my far-too-long nap.

We just keep trekking, and I manage not to fall over any of the several times I trip. Every once in a while, Norge stops and looks around before continuing further only to do it again.

Finally, he asks, "Do you feel like we're being watched?"

I look up at him. "No?" I focus, but I can't sense anything.

Norge frowns—I'm not sure how I know this since I can't see his face in this light—and starts walking again. Another minute later, he finally stops, freezing when he looks to his right. It takes me a second to follow his gaze.

"Hey, it's a bird," I respond, almost slurring from not talking for so long. Norge doesn't respond, and I take a little step closer to the thing, which is digging its bright, thick beak around in the grass. "I think it's a puffin." I drop down to my knees a little too fast and stare at the creature dizzily.

"I think it's been following us," Norge finally says, not moving any closer to the thing.

"Well, maybe." I look at the puffin for another second. "Hey, Norge, can we keep it?"

"Don't puffins live in icy places and eat fish?"

"Uh... Yeah?"

"And this one is in a jungle eating bugs."

The words take a second to soak in.

"But it's cute," I finally blurt out.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Huh? Yes? Yes." I reach out to pet the puffin, but my hand somehow misses. "But can we keep it?"

Norge looks at the bird for a minute more, and it looks up at us curiously.

"It was following us, anyway," he dismisses. "Might as well keep an eye on it."

"Yay." I touch the puffin successfully this time and pick it up, cradling it in my arms. It doesn't object.

"Now we really need to find you some water," Norge announces, pushing some large leaves out of the way so we can keep going.

"Okay." I wobble back onto my feet and stagger after him.

Find me some water, huh? Not us? He's thirsty. Am I thirstier? I'm very thirsty. I mean...

...Hang on. Did I just adopt some sort of mutt...?

I look at the thing in my arms, which has settled itself comfortably.

I... am seriously out of it right now. We... We should definitely find some water. Yeah.

Ducking under a branch, I keep following Norge as we hopefully push closer to something helpful.


	22. Flee

Recommended Listening: 19th Nervous Breakdown by Rolling Stones

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><p><strong>Shiran Kirkland, District 5<strong>

Something starts nudging my arm. I mumble something like "five more minutes" and roll over a little.

"Shiran?" Plutonia nervously stops nudging me. "It's your watch. But, I mean, if you, um, really don't want to..."

"Ah?" I respond incoherently, rubbing my eyes. "Whuh...? No, no, it's okay." I shift around a bit until I'm finally awake enough to flip over so I can see below us. I misstep, though, and end up falling a little further than I wanted.

"Shiran!"

I'm about to respond with "I'm okay" but find myself frozen and unable to breathe.

Sui is staring straight at my face.

"Shiran?" Plutonia whispers, scared, as she rustles the branches in coming closer. Sui and I still haven't broken eye contact when Plutonia gets to peek over my shoulder.

"A-Ah!" She grabs at one of my arms. "Sh-Shiran! Shiran! Move!" She tugs me backwards, finally getting me to move this time. I start breathing again as we scamper to the other side of the tree.

"We're so high up," Plutonia whimpers.

"Well, just jump to the next one!"

"I can't jump that far!"

"Ssh! Just follow me, okay?" I shuffle to the end of the branch and spring over to the next tree easily. I turn back around and hold out a hand. "Come on!"

Plutonia wavers, but, remembering we've just been found by another tribute, finally hurries up and jumps. She almost misses, but between getting one hand on a branch and the other in my hand, she manages to not fall. She's shaken, but the situation's too urgent for her to take a break.

We just keep going, hoping that Sui's lost track of us and that we won't run into anyone else.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

"...and I think you need a name," Ise continues, holding the puffin out in front of him. "What should your name be? Should I name you after someone? I could name you after my dad. No... I shouldn't name you after Norge, because that would be confusing."

"Ise, you're blathering."

"Hm..." he continues obliviously. "Maybe I should just come up with a name. Let's see... I could name you Aðalsteinn or—"

"Ise."

"—Jónatan or Lúðvík or Pétur or Kristján—"

"His name is Mr. Puffin," I interrupt bluntly. "Now may we please continue walking _in silence_?"

Ise blinks. "That's not a bad idea, actually. Mr. Puffin..."

Sensing he's about to start blabbering again, I give him a look. He seems to come back to his senses a bit, at least enough to close his mouth.

We just continue forging through the leaves, though I for one am about ready to call it a night. I haven't hit the delirium Ise has, but I'm thirsty, too. I'm tired, too. I'd really like to find some...

Water.

I push down the last branch in front of me with disbelief as the river right in front of us flows lazily on. Ise only catches sight of it before setting Mr. Puffin down and running for the bank with an uncharacteristically joyful laugh. He skids to a halt right at the shore and dunks his whole head underwater.

I finally thaw out and hurry over to the water by the time Ise finally surfaces, panting heavily. We both finally start actually drinking the water. It's impossibly wonderful. Even though the night is much cooler than the day, we're still overheated from doing so much hiking. But the water is cool.

Ise and I tarry here until a faint light starts to creep over the horizon.

"We should hide ourselves," Ise finally says, slicking back his wet hair. I nod, and, once Ise has decided to go ahead and keep Mr. Puffin with us, we delve back into the trees.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

Some sort of nightmare wakes me up. I don't remember what it was now. Something murky and sinister.

I open my eyes, and, realising it's still quite dark, figure I might as well relieve whoever's on watch. I prop myself up on an elbow and squint at the figures around me. Everyone in sight is still curled up in his or her sleeping bag. I look over my shoulder, but there aren't any figures by the Cornucopia, either.

That's odd...

I look back over the sleeping bags, and, although it's hard to see, figure out that Sheen is missing.

Where did he go? Is he just on a restroom break or something?

But the sky's starting to lighten up, though. Why would he be on watch this long? We have plenty of Careers to wake up...

As my mind shakes off the last confusing remnants of my nightmare, I shuffle out of my sleeping bag.

So Sheen's run off. Has he left for good, or is he just trying to track down Feli? If he's gone-gone, that's not good for either of us. If we're separated, neither side will get as many donations. I know he's really crazy over Feli, but surely he's not just going to put himself at that sort of disadvantage.

Either way, Osso's not going to be pleased. If Sheen's coming back, he'd better get to it before Osso wakes up. I can always say Sheen woke me up for watch instead of just leaving us undefended, but I don't think that would lessen the distrust much.

Sheen, I hope you have good reason for this. I mean, if you're really in love, well, I suppose there's no messing with that. But is it really better for her if you find her? She hadsn't been in the sky yet, so she's probably doing all right. She's terrified of you. She won't be wanted here. If you run off with just her, you sacrifice most of your donations.

I wonder how he's planning on the ending. I doubt he's thought about it. He's just trying to be with Feli. When the field gets small, though, what will he do? He's trained to kill, but unless Feli has a massive change of heart, his killing others would probably just push her to break the alliance. She's a timid little thing. She couldn't take death around her.

Just how far would he go for her? If they somehow got to the final two—which I dearly hope they don't—would he kill himself? The trainers do a lot of brainwashing people into thinking victory is the greatest honour in this world. I've almost fallen for it myself, and I think the Games are horrible. Could Sheen love Feli enough to just reverse all of that?

I don't know. I don't know him well enough. We've only tangled a few times in training. He's always been aggressive and somewhat arrogant, but he's skilled. He wouldn't have come here if he weren't.

He seems a bit more tame now, but if anyone threatens Feli... Now that would be raising Cain.

I don't know. His running after her isn't good for anything logically. But I can't imagine how hard it would be to just stop. I've only ever had a few harmless crushes, so I couldn't say.

Would he be happier without sustenance or any idea of the future as long as he's with her? Or is it better to stay here, comfortably, with a clear path and a way to reach it? I don't know. I just hope, whatever he does, no one gets hurt for it.

But knowing the Games, the only way he could be happy is to die with her.


	23. Awareness

Recommended Listening: Things Can Only Get Better by Howard Jones

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><p><strong>Sui Holmes, District 11<strong>

I'm the last one back to our meeting place. Tina is sitting on a low branch, swinging her legs, while Den is leaning against the trunk, looking in serious danger of falling asleep.

"Ah! Sui," Tina acknowledges, the first to notice me. Den seems to wake up a little at this at blinks at me.

"So! Any luck on your side?" he starts. "We didn't find anyone, sadly."

"N' one's wh'r' I w'nt," I answer, more or less truthfully since I didn't follow the two I found.

"She didn't find anyone," Tina translates incorrectly.

"Man," Den sighs disappointedly, leaning back against the trunk. "We're not going to get anything if we can't kill anyone."

"Can we at least catch something?" Tina starts, laughing meekly. "I _am_ still sort of hungry..."

Den looks down at his cleaver for a second.

"...What if I said no food until you find another tribute?"

Tina and I have just enough time to stare at him apprehensively before he bursts out laughing.

"Aw, come on, ladies, I'm not that mean! Let's go find something." He pushes himself off the trunk and starts off to hunt the only way he should. Tina and I follow after exchanging one uncomfortable glance. I think we both realise we don't trust him at all anymore.

I don't know. Maybe I should have said I saw other tributes. I probably ticked off any sponsors Den was getting us. But... It was that Five... The one whose brother died. And he's so young, and... It's unbelievable how absolutely terrified he was. I could literally feel it. Maybe if it was someone with less emotion, I could give them away. But not him. He's just too... innocent, I guess. Somehow, despite being in the Games. If he dies, I'm not going to be responsible for it. I can't honestly say I hope he lives—that would mean my death, after all—but... I at least don't want to be involved if it has to happen.

Den calls us; he's killed a bird of some type. I jog towards him, getting the uncomfortable feeling there's really no way this is going to work out.

**Journs Sykop, District 4**

After a lovely night of not being woken for watch, I'm awake by the time Magya and Osso make the rounds getting everyone up. Sheen gets up with the barest nudge, while Ilber's in so deep a sleep he either doesn't respond or rolls over and tries to hit whoever touches him. Eventually, everyone is roused, Ax is left to watch our supplies, and we're off hunting for today.

Osso leads, as always, while Sheen keeps up just behind. We get through a good length of jungle smoothly. Then Sheen trips over a root. Ilber runs straight into him, knocking the both of them over completely, and Magya stumbles on them but manages to stop the chain.

Osso, almost having been bowled off his feet, stares down vexedly at Sheen, who's pushing himself back up.

"Any particular reason you wanted to let everyone know where we are?" the One starts.

"No," Sheen mutters, sweeping some dirt and rotting leaves off him. He fails to suppress a yawn.

"You took an awfully long watch last night," responds Osso suspiciously.

"I didn't feel like sleeping."

"Then don't start falling asleep now." He turns and starts us off again. We're once again silent—after Ilber's done grousing about being knocked over, which was apparently mostly Osso's fault—but after traversing a few more metres, Sheen somehow manages to stumble again. No one else trips this time, so the blonde faceplants alone.

Without a comment or any other acknowledgement of the matter, Osso continues travelling forwards. Ilber snickers at the fallen Career, but Magya helps Sheen to his feet, muttering something in his ear before hurrying off after the pack leader. I follow without comment, too late to assist Sheen and not having anything to say.

He'd better wake up soon. If he scares away some decent blood... Well, I'm going to have to kill someone eventually. I'm already going a little stir-crazy. Osso seems pretty ticked off at him, anyway, so Sheen wouldn't be a bad bet if I'm going after someone in close proximity.

We keep forging through the trees as the sun grows stronger. I pay just enough attention to keep from tripping myself, and I start to wonder just what would be the best way to kill that boy.

**Ise Javik, District 9**

By the time the sun has gotten stiflingly hot, Norge and I have settled on the biggest tree near the shore. We'll nestle Mr. Puffin on some of the lower branches, just in case he squawks or something while other tributes are near by. Norge and I will be in the highest branches that can support us, so it'll be really hard for someone else to make us out through the leaves if Mr. Puffin gives our relative position away. We won't be able to keep the best watch, but we can at least listen and be ready to climb down in a hurry.

We're not quite ready to turn in for the night—er, day—so we take one last trip to the river. We only have one canteen, and a small one at that, so it's not much of a full-day supply. We'll have to make do, though. If we're going to the river, we'd better do it together. Like we are now.

Norge still takes the lead, as I follow with Mr. Puffin trailing after me cheerfully. We end up at the bank again, though the river's flowing a bit quicker. I don't think we're exactly where we were before, but a river's a river. The current's still not at a dangerous level.

I end up sticking my head underwater again, just because it feels so nice. It's way too hot out here, and, if there's a breeze of some sort, the water'll cool me off a little later, too.

By the time I pull my head back out and start dipping out water with my hands, Mr. Puffin's taking a drink, too.

I'm not sure what possessed me to adopt him, and I'm not completely sure why I'm keeping him. I guess I wasn't... _lying _when I said he was cute, though that was pretty awkward in retrospect coming from a 16-year-old. But... I don't know. Maybe he can get us fish or something. As long as he doesn't eat whatever we find or attack us, there's not much of a reason to get rid of him.

I'm satiated to the point of not quite needing to drink more when I notice Norge has wandered off upstream.

"Norge?"

He ignores me, kneeling down and facing away. He stays there for a minute before turning and coming back towards me.

Apparently he found an axe.

I stare in awe at the thing, completely clean and shiny except for a few specks of moss.

"Was... that... a donation?" I finally start.

"No parachute." Norge sets it down between us and leans to take a drink.

"...Wow." Feeling like I'm talking too much, I stop there, take a few more drinks from the river, and get back on my feet. Norge drinks a little more before carefully gripping the axe's thick handle and standing up, too. Refreshed enough, I scoop up Mr. Puffin, and the three of us silently approach our tree.

**Ilber Schmidt, District 7**

No luck this morning. All of these idiots are too busy tripping over nothing and scaring all the other tributes off to get anything done. Psh. I'm starting to think I should have just formed my own alliance. But I guess there's not as many donations with that, so I'll tolerate these idiots. For now.

We come back to the Cornucopia for lunch. Ax already ate. Hopefully not too much.

Magya divides up our portions—Osso actually has to eat normal food today, ha—and we start chowing. Osso starts blathering about starting off on another hunt once we're done here. None of us like that idea much. After I deliberate exactly how stupid that idea is—and he attempts to disprove me, obviously unsuccessfully—he pushes the hunt to this afternoon once the heat starts waning a little.

We finish our meals quietly and sit for a moment before Osso seems to notice something.

"...Ax?"

"Yeah?"

"You _did _go pick up the axe you dropped by the river, correct?"

Ax pauses.

"Did I ever mention I have the memory of an old-man goldfish?"

"I don't believe you did."

"Ah. Well, I do."

Osso facepalms.


	24. Tension

Author's Note: Um, would it be annoying if I put in another "IEFWJKNGEARJKLN"-type thank you for the massive amount of reviews this is getting? Well, um, thanks anyway. :3 I can't believe how quickly they're racking up.

Recommended Listening: Get Off Of My Cloud by The Rolling Stones

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><p><strong>Aurth Unikin, District 6<strong>

It's quite peaceful now that I'm done careening down the raging river. The current at last began to slow a while back, and I easily swam to shore.

And no sign of that fish. Ha! Only further proof of my curse's success!

I seem to have come upon the opposite shore this time. Rather than grass and mad underfoot is sand, which sweeps in a wide swath before me. On the horizon, perhaps two days' walk away, is a dark blur.

Well, I don't see any harm that could come of exploring.

I slap my jacket back on to protect my fair skin from the unshielded sun, take one last draught of water from the river, and travel onwards.

**Livna Wickham, District 1**

Waiting for the heat to die down a bit is insanely boring for quite a while. It pretty much consists of arguing over who gets which spot of shade, since the Cornucopia's a little to hot to touch at the moment. We just hang out at the edge of the trees, taking the shade but not the humidity. We're generally a little too busy resting up or fanning ourselves to chat, but Ilber continues to complain about Osso regardless, both when the leader is here and when he hurries off for a bathroom trip.

"...and _seriously_, we take a hike to get water, and he uses half of it to get cleaned off from having to touch _dirt_. How could such a freaking sissy aristocrat even get into training, let alone the Games?"

I sit, silently nodding but sort of wishing he'd shut up already.

Ilber finally falls silent for a moment when Osso returns, unhappily wiping some moss off one hand.

"Hey," Ilber starts again, standing up and squinting through the bright light at the newcomer. "What are you carrying?"

Osso continues without acknowledging the Seven, though he does seem to pick up the pace towards the Cornucopia.

"Hang on. Hang on!" Ilber jogs after him, seizing Osso's right shoulder to see what he had wedged between his bicep and ribs.

"What the—!"

Osso just manages to keep Ilber from wrenching the load away from him.

"When the crap did we get _toilet paper_?" Ilber shouts.

"Just now," Osso replies, closing his eyes in impatience.

"Oh, oh, so the sponsors waited to give it to _you _when you needed it? Because we all know everyone in the fricking _world _loves _you_ _so _much!"

Osso adjusts his glasses. "Need I remind you that, unlike yours, I'm sure, my family has substantial finances?"

"Oh, so they just happened to wait, like, three days before they sent it to you? You've had that this whole time, haven't you? While the rest of us are out using leaves and who _knows _what else—!" Ilber's really getting in Osso's face now. "You're nothing but a pampered, selfish idiot, and you know what? I don't think there's a single freaking reason you should be leader!" His hand flies for his sword.

Within a second, Ilber's on the ground, Osso's feet planted on his back and Osso's sword held to his neck.

"Any other comments, Mr. Schmidt?" the One says, carefully moving the toilet roll under his free arm.

Ilber squirms but can't seem to get free from under him.

"Yeah," the Seven finally spits. "You're freaking _fat_ for a Career."

Osso stomps on him again, hard, before stepping off. He keeps his sword at Ilber's neck, though.

"Do you have any other comments of a mutinous nature?" he says as Ilber carefully gathers his limbs underneath him.

"Does 'I hate you' count?"

"Not quite."

"Then no. Oh, and I hate you."

With a sigh, Osso finally pulls back, sheathing his sword, while Ilber regains his feet, spitting out some sand.

...Well, then. That... was interesting. I guess Osso's our undisputed leader again. Despite hoarding our only mapling roll of _toilet paper _to himself.

Fun stuff.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

Ise silently gets me up for watch, and then rolls back over to sleep. I stay where I am. There's no reason to make any noise. I can't see the jungle floor from anywhere near here, anyway.

I sit up for a moment to take a drink of water. Now that we have an actual source of water, I've been a bit less careful about portioning. The river's a bit too big to dry up in one day, especially if it's stayed intact in this environment, and we can survive a day without water if other tributes appear by the bank. I won't let my guard down completely, but I allow myself to feel the tiniest bit safer.

I stay seated, just to make sure I don't relax too much, as my watch drags on. It's ridiculously hot still, but I think it's a bit cooler up here than beneath the branches.

—I think I hear talking.

I stay still, moving my eyes to check on Ise. I don't have to wake him up, as he hasn't fallen asleep yet, but I have to make sure he at least knows we might have to move. Before I have to move any further, he realises I'm looking at him and nods.

I look back away, staring blankly ahead as I try to focus on the sounds.

"...and what's with District 5 and crazy eyebrows, anyway?" It sounds like a male, though I can't quite recognise it. "I mean, there's those Kirkland kids, and the chick this year didn't have the thinnest brows, either. And—who was it?—that bloke two years ago, you know, the cocky one, thought he was a whole freaking continent or something? Those have to be the thickest eyebrows I've ever seen. It's a miracle he wasn't falling face-first all the time!" He pauses, and I swallow, no longer able to tell if he's getting closer or not.

"Aw, come on, girls, just a little longer?" he finally continues, sounding a little quieter, though I'm not sure it's from distance. "We'll keep walking a few more minutes and get some sleep after that, I promise."

The "girls" don't respond.

I guess these people can't be the Careers. Of course, Careers wouldn't be chatting on a hunt, but the conversation doesn't sound all that businesslike, either. And then I doubt the females would be particularly dragging the males down.

But just because they're not Careers doesn't mean they're not a threat. I stay poised, listening closely for footsteps I can't quite make out, as the group goes on.

Apparently the girls still aren't quite willing to keep going.

"Come on, I'll even hunt down a few more birds if you want, all right?" I think he's right beneath me.

It sounds like he has a weapon. Ise and I haven't had much of a choice but to eat the one plant we're both sure isn't poisonous and some grubs. We do have a weapon now, though. This thing's a little heavy for constant travelling, but it's going to be great to have a bite of meat every once in a while. If we can cook it decently. Hopefully—

Mr. Puffin starts squawking loudly.

I jump in alarm, almost tipping over the axe nearby. Ise stops it from moving and looks at me, more out of wondering what we're going to do next than out of disdain for my reaction.

"Wait," I mouth, taking the axe carefully and looking down at the scene I can't see.

They want to eat some birds, anyway, right? They should be all right without having to climb the tree, especially if they're exhausted. Things aren't looking that good for Mr. Puffin, but they're at least not looking too bad for Ise and me.

Sure enough, I hear some branches creaking at the bottom of the tree. Mr. Puffin's squawking gets more alarmed for a moment before his wings start beating.

If he dares fly up here—!

I get to my feet, but the flapping gets softer rather than louder. One of the branches snaps, while the talkative tribute apparently falls.

"Hey! Hang on!" There's enough hustle for him to be hurrying to his feet, or for his other allies to be running after the Mr. Puffin. He probably takes off after them, because the next time I hear him he's swearing and repeatedly asking his allies if they saw where the bird went. Apparently they didn't.

"Great," he moans, "all that fuss for nothing. Ah, well. Let's just go in that direction, then, eh? Just in case." His voice grows more faint until he either stops talking or is just too far away.

I let out a long exhale and lean back, though I can't quite convince myself to let back go of the axe.


	25. Of the Essence

Author's Note: For anyone who hasn't seen it, there's a poll on my profile. It's sort of a sponsor-checking kind of thing, so if you vote, the higher-scoring alliances might get more donations. Just so you know~

And I may end up doing reviewer rewards again. (And no, you can't request another sequel.)

Recommended Listening: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears

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><p><strong>Osso Torya, District 1<strong>

"All right, who's staying behind to watch our supplies?" I finally start, taking one last swig of water before closing my canteen. The other Careers look at each other, avoiding my gaze so I won't pick them.

"Come on, we're all going to end up having a turn," I add.

There's another moment of hesitation before Sheen mutters that he'll do it. I watch as he walks to the Cornucopia unenergetically and leans against a shaded spot.

Sheen's getting more suspicious by the day, but he knows it would be worse for him to leave us. He came back from snooping around last night, after all. And he's done enough travelling for one day. I can tell he's tired. I'm not too worried about him taking a nap, at least. As for running off again... We'll just have to see if he's still smart enough to keep hold of the resources he has.

"All right, everyone. Let's get going, then," I say, looking around the circle of sand for a moment before deciding we haven't gone north in a while.

"Yeah," Ilber says bluntly. "And make sure you don't touch his freaking toilet paper while we're gone, Sheen. He couldn't _survive_ without it." The Seven glares at me.

I sigh inaudibly, turning my back to him as I head for the jungle.

"Really, though, would it have killed you to let us have some?" Journs starts as the others begin to follow me.

"And then what? Someone runs out of his or hers and tries to take someone else's, and we just have more fighting on our hands," I respond without turning around. "I think this group is strained enough."

"Yes, because _you're _being such a twit!" Ax grumbles.

Ilber jumps at this. "Yeah, if you wanted us to stop fighting, you wouldn't be hoarding all our good stuff or wasting our water on getting clean or just being an idiot in general."

I consider telling him I wasn't cleansing myself of dirt but a brush with a plant that alarmingly irritated my skin. But he wouldn't really care, anyway, would he? He just wants a reason to complain about me.

"Except I guess you can't help that last part," Ilber goes on. "I guess some of you are just born that way. Of course, born idiots shouldn't lead a group of toddlers, let alone Careers, but, y'know." I can feel his scowl.

"Don't threaten my leadership," I respond calmly, resting my hand on my sword hilt.

"I don't have to. You're screwing it up enough yourself."

"Mmm-hmm," one of the girls agrees.

"Oh, will you stop complaining?" Magya puts in, finally entering the conversation. "You're a fool if you think we could just switch leaders peacefully, and we're all doomed if we don't have a leader of some sort. Admittedly, Osso _should_ change some things about his lifestyle—" she looks at me pointedly—"but otherwise, he's doing decently. He has the most kills, along with me, and none of _us_ have gotten killed other than in a freak accident. So keep your grumbling to yourself, and let's stay quiet so we can find some other tributes, hm?"

She starts walking again without waiting for a response, overtaking me for a moment before I get going, too. I give her a nod of thanks, and she nods back.

**Tina Sinki, District 9**

An ally starts nudging my shoulder, and, feeling like I've only just fallen asleep, I begrudgingly blink my eyes open. I recognise the thin hand on my shoulder before I see Sui's face. Stretching my shoulders back, I sit up in our tree and prepare to go down a set of branches to take watch.

"H'ng 'n."

I pause, looking confusedly over at Sui, who hasn't started to climb over to her sleeping spot. She hesitates for a second, looking over at Den, who's fast asleep. She exhales and looks back at me.

"I'm l'v'ng."

"Leaving?" I echo, glancing over at Den as if my whisper would have woken him. "What...?"

"We h've g'd r's'n n't t' tr'st h'm. We sh'dn't st'y w'th s'me'ne we d'n't tr'st."

"Oh... Okay..." I look back at Den nervously. I can't say I trust him anymore. He's gotten us food, and I feel like he'd protect us from other people, but... I could just see him turning on us any minute. And it's the Hunger Games. People _do _that.

By the time I look back at Sui, her head has almost disappeared under the leaves. I think she's going whether I come with her or not. I don't blame her.

I start to climb down, but I end up looking back at Den. He's still asleep, but the hatchet is tied to his belt loop, and the handle's tucked under him. We can't get that away from him. Maybe Sui already tried.

I hesitate one last second, and Sui drops to the ground.

Swallowing hard, I climb down and join her.

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

If I don't find her this time, I'm done for. This is dangerous. Osso's already suspicious, but at least I didn't take anything. I'll be going back whatever happens—I'm not stupid enough to not use what the Gamemakers have given us—so there's no reason to make myself more suspicious.

Above all, I have to hurry. I won't have much of an excuse if the others get back before I do. But that's all right. I think Osso's onto me, anyway. He doesn't seem to mind, so he shouldn't hurt me if I'm back late. He won't be happy about me stealing supplies, but when I find Feli, I won't be going back to the Cornucopia a second time, anyway.

I just have to hurry. I just have to hurry, and I'll find her. And everything is going to be all right. I just have to hurry.

I try to pick up my pace, but I only end up stumbling.

I'm too tired... It's too hot... I really shouldn't be doing this right now. But I have to. Feli's out there waiting, and anything could happen to her at any time if I'm not there to protect her.

I just have to hurry. I'm stumbling around, dehydrated, and overheated, but I just have to hurry.

**Plutonia Agnelli, District 10**

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Shiran, knee-deep in the saltwater, tries to wave me over.

"No, it won't!" I back up, my feet now starting to breach the surface. "I can't swim!"

"Well, I'll teach you! And it's not like you'll drown—the water's too shallow."

"Shiran, don't say that!" I moan, covering my ears. "Now the Gamemakers are going to make me drown just to show you up!"

"What? No, they wouldn't!" Shiran objects. "I mean, drowning us would be boring, wouldn't it?"

"But then they'll lead someone over here and make _them _drown us," I whimper.

"Plutonia, they're not going to—"

"This is just a bad idea!"

Shiran sighs, splashing around for a second before wading a little deeper. "Fine, we won't. But it would have been fun."

"Not if I drowned," I mumble, timidly stepping one more pace into the water. My feet are submerged again.

"No, but you wouldn't have," he mutters, sort of talking to himself just to have the last word.

You can't say that, Shiran. I don't even know how we're still alive _now_. We've gotten some donations, so we're at least not starving, but there haven't been cannons in a while. The Gamemakers aren't going to be happy. And here we are, just splashing around, and Shiran's even having fun swimming! It's like spitting in their faces. We shouldn't be doing this, _oh_, we shouldn't be doing this.

But I can't just tell Shiran to stop having fun. When he's not distracting himself, he always ends up looking on the other side of the river, at the sandy beach. It makes him think of his brother. And that just makes him so miserable I can't stand it.

There's just no way to win here. And it's driving me crazy.


	26. Prepare to Die

Recommended Listening: Chain Reaction by Journey

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><p><strong>Feli Vargas, District 3<strong>

I wake up, but I don't open my eyes. I don't want to. The sun's too bright. It's too hot. My eyes are too dry. I still haven't drunk anything or eaten anything. I'm all dried up, and my stomach is so empty it feels like it's stabbing me.

I don't like being awake any more. It hurts too much. I just want to sleep.

I try to curl up a little tighter, but I don't think I actually move. I guess I'm too weak. I haven't moved out of this tree since I got here. So I wouldn't really know.

Let's just go back to sleep. Please let me go back to sleep...

**Tina Sinki, District 9**

Sui and I have stopped to rest. We still haven't found any water, but we're just too tired. We were walking around long enough already before we left Den. Trying to keep going even further is just impossible.

I can't even keep pretending the heat and humidity is pleasant. Sure, it's great for an hour, or maybe a little longer. But a whole day, a whole string of days... It's unreal. I don't know how I'll be able to keep going.

Okay, okay, Tina. Let's not get so pessimistic. You're alive, and you don't have to worry about Den anymore. You're better off than you were this morning, right? So you should be glad about that.

Sui, who had been on the verge of nodding off, opens her eyes again. Starting to dread that she might suggest moving a little further, I brace myself.

But instead of saying anything, she just gets to her feet, and, wiping some sweat off her forehead, grabs my arm to help me up. I open my mouth to ask her if we really have to move.

"Evening, ladies."

I jump at Den's voice, simultaneously turning to catch a glimpse of him and starting to hurry away.

"Now why do you seem so scared?" he asks, gripping his cleaver and thumping its dull end against his palm.

I stare at him, trying to come up with a polite response, but Sui tugs at my arm again, and I'm forced to start running with her.

"You're not leaving the alliance, are you?" Den hasn't gotten any farther away. But what else would I expect from someone older, stronger, and more well-rested?

"Um, n-no, we're just..." I trail off, completely out of ideas. No talking's going to help this. We just have to run.

But Sui stumbles in front of me, and I barely avoid the same fate. I stay upright, though I have to stop.

It looks like we somehow got into a dead end. The trees are too close. And Den's still right there.

Sui turns around, frantically trying to break some branches. She starts to make a bit of progress, but there's still nowhere for us to go as Den steps forwards slowly.

"Now, I don't know what you girls were thinking," he starts, still tapping his hand with the cleaver's handle, "but I'll forgive you. I just want an alliance, that's all. Maybe I was working you a little too hard, but..." He takes another step closer, and I can't quite make myself focus on his words instead of the gleam of his weapon.

"J-Just back up," I finally breathe, feeling myself quiver with adrenaline. "We're... We're done. I'm sorry, but... W-We're done."

"Oh, really?" Den looks sad for a moment before taking another slow step, stopping right in front of me.

I realise I'm gripping something painfully hard and make myself let go. I watch my finger withdraw from the cleaver handle.

...Wait... When did I...?

The cleaver doesn't fall to the ground, as its tip is embedded in a tree trunk. The rest of the blade is red, along with a section of the bark alongside it.

And along with Den's neck.

I just glimpse the red flesh for a moment before Den slumps to the ground. A cannon fires. I stare at him for a little longer before looking confusedly back at the cleaver.

"...Sui...? What... just... happened...?" I can't get myself to look away and turn towards her, but I can feel her staring at me.

"S-Sui...?" I repeat, my breathing sounding heavy in my ears.

"...K'll'd h'm," Sui finally whispers.

"O...Okay...? What... happened to Den, then...?"

"T'na." I feel Sui's hands on my shoulders. " 'sokay."

"What...? I don't get it..."

"T'na. L't's m've."

"Okay...?"

Sui turns me away from the bloody image before me and, after carefully taking the cleaver, starts to lead me staggering back into the rest of the jungle.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

Our alliance is miraculously still hunting quietly when something catches my attention.

"Is that a parachute?" I murmur in Osso's ear, in case a nearby tribute could hear. Osso follows my line of sight and nods when he sees the cloth, hooked on a nearby tree's higher branches, fluttering weakly in the breeze like a white flag.

He changes course and leads us slowly to the tree, keeping his footsteps silent. After motioning for us to stay back—Ilber and Journs don't comply—he lays his hands on a branch and starts to pull himself up into the boughs. Journs and Ilber at least don't climb up after him, though they stay poised right at the trunk lest a tribute be up there.

Nothing happens for a minute or so. Then, finally, Osso's feet emerge from the leaves, and he climbs down, a small water canteen in one hand and Feli slung over his shoulder. She's obviously unconscious; she doesn't even look alive.

The girl must feel horrible... I should end it for her. I have to end it for her.

I wrap my fingers around a knife but hesitate. Osso should have already killed her. What is he going to do?

Clenching my hand tight around my weapon, I try to stay patient as the others notice his cargo.

"Oh, look, he saved one for us," Journs starts cheerfully, sliding her fingers down her weapon's handle in anticipation.

"I'm afraid that's not the case," Osso replies before turning and taking a few steps back towards camp.

"Uh, no, I'm afraid it is," Ilber responds, sliding over to cut him off. "Seriously, though. You can't even take down a half-dead chick?"

"Yet I bested _you_ in battle," Osso retorts before sidestepping Ilber and continuing.

"So to apologise you let me have this kill. How nice." Ilber jumps back in front of him.

"You're not killing her." Osso takes a right to go around a tree and continue east. "At least not now."

"And why's that?" Ilber, frustrated at not being able to block his rival, just marches ahead of him.

"Because we're letting Sheen see her first."

"Oh, I get it. Because you know if you killed her, he'd whip you in a second, huh?"

"That is not the case."

"Oh, you don't know that?"

"Ilber."

"That's my name; don't wear it out."

"Shut up," Osso mutters.

At this point, Journs and I are hovering behind him, wishing Osso would tell us his ulterior reasons. If we decide he's not right, we could always go in for the kill. I would have to hurry, though, because Journs would want to draw it out...

No, no, we can't take things into our own hands. I can't defend Osso's leadership just to decide it's not good enough for me after all. He's taking Feli back to Sheen, who by virtue of love is going to take care of her. She... She has a future, short as it may be. And, really, she's unconscious, so I guess she's not suffering all that much now...

With an exhale, I make myself put my knife away and follow Osso silently.

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

I'm freaking lost. _Lost_. In broad daylight—well, it's lessening now—in a not-so-dense part of the jungle. I don't have a compass, and I can't trust the sun or any other natural tools since those could be fake. I just have to hope I can find my way back.

It looks like I'm not going to get ahold of Feli this time around. Just please, please let me get back before the others.

I suppress another yawn and keep moving.


	27. Playing Chess

Recommended Listening: Just the Same Way by Journey

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><p><strong>Ise Javik, District 9<strong>

By the time the sun sets, we've settled down from today's near-detection. No tributes passed by us since Den, so I guess our hiding spot is working out well.

Mr. Puffin hasn't come back. I guess he didn't like us as much as I thought he did. It makes me kind of sad. Not the general crushing despair at being in the Hunger Games, but just a wistfulness. I lost my pet. Not that I had known him for a while, but it was nice to have something to ease the stress of all of this. I mean, I technically have Norge, but in the end talking with him probably won't be all that comforting. It'd just be easier to pet that little bird.

And now I sound like one of those crazy pet people. But I really do wish he'd come back...

The anthem pulls me out of my musings, and the faces start to flash. Well, one face tonight. Surprisingly enough, it's Den. He sounded fine earlier today. I guess the Careers must have gotten him. But his allies are still out there, so... I don't know. Maybe it was a mutt attack or poisoning. It seems odd, though. Den was one of the top non-Career contenders. And—poof—just gone.

It could happen to any of us. Including me. I've been careful with the little food I've been able to get, and I've kept good enough watch to avoid mutts, but you just never know. This arena must be crazy—not only Den, but one of the Careers have gotten killed in the first few days. It feels like I have so much less of a chance to pull through...

But... But I'm going to win. No matter the chances, no matter anything. I don't feel as confident about it, but my mind's still as made up as ever.

I'm going home. Somehow, I'm going to win. And that's that.

**Journs Sykop, District 4**

When we come back to the Cornucopia, Sheen's flat on his face, barely on the surface of his sleeping bag, snoozing away. Great watchman, he is. Ilber, after some ranting about Sheen that inevitably ends up as Osso-bashing, takes a minute to assure us that no one made off with any of our supplies.

Osso, glancing at Sheen and shaking his head, sets the still-asleep Feli down, propping her up against the Cornucopia. He informs us he'll be taking first watch tonight and dismisses us to go to sleep.

And not too soon, either. We went pretty far out today before finding Feli, and it certainly wasn't any shorter—or much cooler—coming back. I'm as exhausted as any of the rest of us. And then Osso carried another person all the way back, too. But then again, she's so emaciated I don't think she weighs as much as his sword.

I'm still wondering exactly why he hasn't run that sword through her. He wants Sheen to see her. That's all we know. And Sheen's bleeding asleep, so I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to kill her yet.

But now that I think about it, I don't really want to. She's too pathetic. I don't even think she'd make a sound if I chopped her up. That's no fun. Magya still wants to kill her for some reason, though. Psycho.

I end up lying atop my sleeping bag rather than crawling in. I'm too hot, even though it's cooler than it was when the sun was up. I want to take a shower, but that's not going to happen. If it rains, it'll probably be poison or something inconvenient like that. And then taking a dip in the river isn't the best idea until we track that fish down. But I'm a bit tempted, anyway. It's nasty out here. Trekking through a jungle gets a person dirty enough, but add that to all the sweating from the heat and climbing trees and things... Just, ergh. It's not nice.

But that's all right. I haven't gotten to kill nearly enough people yet, but I'm sure things will speed up. Maybe I'll even get to—a healthier?—Feli first once Osso's done whatever he's planning to do with her. That would be nice...

I ponder ways to kill her until I drift off to sleep.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

Tina and I are resting in a pile of shrubs. I'm silently wiping the last traces of blood from the cleaver, while Tina is still staring dazedly out into space. I wonder if she's in shock. I think realising she's killed a person would do that. I'm almost surprised I'm not in the same state. Trying to break a path away from Den and turning to see the cheerful but reserved girl suddenly slam the thicker guy into a tree, wrench his weapon away from him, and slam it into his neck in one fell swoop... It's... different.

I suppose it's kind of odd I trust a murderer more than the one who was planning to murder. But Tina doesn't seem any darker. Really, now I just know not to make her too scared. I hate to put a human being's death like that, but that's just sort of how it is. There's not much I can do for Den. I can try to help Tina if she ever comes back a little more. Hopefully she'll do that. If she stays a shell for too long, well... I wouldn't want to abandon her, but if we end up being chased, I don't think I could bring myself to drag her along after me at the cost of my life. It wouldn't do her any good. She wouldn't even know I helped her live a little longer.

But that's just a possibility. I think she'll warm back up. Eventually.

Until then, I should probably start to figure out how to kill an animal with this thing.

**Osso Torya, District 1**

As the night drags on, I start to wonder if I made the right decision.

So, let's see. If I left Feli there, my non-family sponsors would disappear. And more likely than not, Ilber or Journs would have climbed up after me and killed her, anyway.

If they killed her, whether or not I revealed Feli was there, Sheen would find out eventually. Knowing Journs and Ilber, they would probably tell him themselves. And then that would certainly splinter the group; in Sheen's current state, I don't doubt he would kill whoever got Feli.

Which is also the reason I didn't take care of her myself. We couldn't disguise whom the cannon was for, as Feli's face would be in the sky. If Sheen were awake for that, he'd find out, ask who it was, and I assume Journs, who's a bit too eager for any bloodshed, would give me away immediately. I'm still quite sure I could take Sheen down, especially in his condition, but it would be such a waste.

And Sheen should be a bit less self-destructive now that he doesn't need to go on extra excursions looking for Feli. He'll be more distracted, but that's certainly better than half-awake and utterly incompetent. And if he sees the other non-Careers as extra threats to Feli, maybe he'll even fight them harder.

Of course, he'll also see us as threats. But the Careers are led by me. I brought Feli back. They don't like me that much, but they're all at least somewhat submissive after the incident with the toilet paper. They should know if I wanted her dead now, I would have done it myself.

And she'll hardly be a burden. I'm not even completely sure she'll make it until Sheen gets up. But, assuming she does, she won't be too much of a drain. Due to the river, we have plenty of water—although it is a bit dangerous to access, we'd all rather like to track that fish down and kill it instead of ignoring it and dehydrating ourselves—and she's too thin to even be able to eat much. We still have a reasonable amount of food, since no one this year seems to be especially gluttonous, so I really don't think there's much to lose on this bet.

Of course, there's only so far I can go in predicting human beings' behaviour. Something always goes wrong. But I feel like this option's a bit safer for this group, and, as its leader, I'm obliged to take that option.

Now all that's left is to hope my strategy ends well.


	28. Thirst

Recommended Listening: Take Me to the River by Talking Heads

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><p><strong>Sheen Sehre, District 2<strong>

I rub my eyes open once I realise I'm conscious. Has anyone come back yet? Augh, I should have never let myself fall asleep!

Since it's dark, I still can't see anything for a while. But as my eyes finally make use of the little light they can perceive, I catch sight of Osso standing and leaning ever so slightly against the mouth of the Cornucopia. He glances at me but doesn't say anything.

I hesitate. He's on watch, so I should just go back to sleep, right? I don't know... I feel like something's up...

Pushing myself to a seated position, I pause and follow Osso's line of sight.

He's looking at Feli.

I blink, gather up my sleeping bag, scuttle to the edge of the jungle, bury my face in the cloth, and start screaming "yes" and rolling around.

Once I'm done with that, I rush back to the Cornucopia, dropping the sleeping bag on the way. I sort of stumble as I sit down next to her. Only here do I start to realise how poor her condition is. She almost looks dead. Her lips are chapped nearly beyond recognition, and her skin is so dry it looks sort of wrinkled and stretched over her bones.

My gaze snaps up to Osso. "Haven't you given her anything to drink?"

He looks down on me. "I'm not the one madly in love with her."

I swallow and shuffle around to get the canteen latched onto my belt.

I knew I shouldn't have left today. If I was just there with them...! And now I've done nothing but make her suffer longer. And... And what if it's already too late?

I suddenly fumble with the canteen lid, just managing to get it off before I put the metal to her lips. I'm barely able to keep my hand steady, but I can just make out Feli swallowing lightly. With a shuddering sigh of relief, I let her empty the rest of the canteen. She still doesn't wake up, but she has to feel a little better.

Putting my canteen back, I shuffle in the sand until I'm in a vaguely comfortable seated position, and I fall asleep next to her.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

It's still dark out here, but Plutonia and I aren't more sleepy than thirsty. Since we don't actually have any containers, we have to go back to the river to go get a drink. It's kind of risky at night, but who knows? I bet I could, like, matador one of the Careers into the river and—fwoosh!—they'd be so far gone in a second they'd never touch us!

I mean, hopefully I wouldn't fall in myself, but I think I can swim in that. I've never swum in a current before, but it's probably not that hard.

So anyway. After Plutonia checks a few times for Careers, we climb down our tree and start tiptoeing towards the river. It's actually kind of nice here at night—well, morning by now, probably—and since we're so close, we don't even break a sweat on our walk.

We settle down on our knees at the bank, both of us tugging off one boot. As always, it takes Plutonia a minute of vacillation before she shuffles close enough to get water. I think my boot's toe is already filled up by the time she gets hers into position. We sit silently—it's not like we could hear much, anyway, with the water crashing over the rocks so hard—and apparently aren't quite thirsty enough to stop and take a drink before our makeshift canteens have had enough time to get full.

Even though I'm nearly deafened by the constant noise, I feel like I hear a slightly louder splash behind me. Not moving my boot, I crane my neck to check, just in case.

"Ah—" I attempt to warn Plutonia that a bloody_ _ginormous __fish is coming towards us, but I'm too stunned to get out anything meaningful. She apparently notices about the time I start moving away from the bank, as she starts screaming loudly. Just catching a glimpse of her rolling away, I crab-walk backwards, watching awestruck as the fish splashes back underwater almost at the very top of the river. I wait a minute, but he doesn't come back.

Plutonia is still screaming behind me. She didn't get hurt, did she?

I spin around, scraping the knees of my trousers, to see her seated, hugging her shoulders and trembling, all but silent. It doesn't look like it hit her, but...

I scuffle over so I can shake her shoulder. I try to ask her to calm down, but between the river and the screaming, I can't even hear myself. She sort of snaps out of it, anyway, and her screaming gives way to a half-panting, half-whimpering.

"I-I don't like this place, Shiran!" she finally chokes out, burying her face in my shirt and starting to sob.

"It's okay," I mumble, my arms awkwardly hovering over her before I decide to pat her on the back. "You're... not hurt, right?"

She sniffs loudly before turning her tearstruck face towards me long enough to shake her head. Then she goes back to crying in my chest, though it's not quite as hysterical now.

"It's okay," I repeat, not sure if I'm talking to her, me, or my parents.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

It's dawn before we climb down to get water. Both of us are glad to move around a little. It's certainly not very nice trying to recline in a tree all day and all of the night while trying to keep an ear out for anything below. And let's not even mention the heat.

I lead the way, nudging some low branches out of our path with the axe handle. This hunk of metal is feeling heavier by the hour. If only we would run into some meat...

But water's more important. I'll at least be glad we have access to that.

Ise and I reach the bank and start putting handfuls of water in our mouths. We alternate, of course, so we're not both gorging oursevles when someone else comes by, and we do the same thing when we're quenched enough to stop and fill our canteen. No one comes, so we start back for our tree.

Despite no longer being thirsty, Ise seems depressed. His face doesn't show it, but I can tell he's not quite right. I wonder if it's just being here. The arena's certainly not a cheerful place. I'm probably not quite as cheery as when I first stepped in here. It just kind of wears people down. And then he lost his pet. That doesn't help anything.

I glance back at him to find he's been looking at me. He opens his mouth but apparently thinks better of it and stays silent.

We get back to our tree untouched, climb up, and sit without a word.

**Aurth Unikin, District 6**

I woke up this morning surrounded by sand, but at last I've found an oasis. Nothing but sand has covered my path since I left the river, though I had plenty of donations to keep me alive and mobile.

But now I don't suppose I'll need quite as many. I've found a stray bit of jungle over here, it seems. It consists of trees, vines—the same things as the other jungle, really—plus a short waterfall that disappears underground. It's a good source of water, so my sponsors need only to fret about sending me food now.

As I explore in the nearly unbroken silence, I start to suspect that this is a circle. Indeed, as I pace the exterior, I come around in a smooth curve. This, the sand around the Cornucopia, the slight curves of the river... An interesting arena, indeed. I believe it's intended to resemble the yin-and-yang symbol when viewed from above.

I'm glad I didn't bother to foresee the arena now! In all of this boredom, I at least got to discover this. What's next, I'm not sure. I suppose I'll just have to wait until my other curses do their work, and I win.

I hope it doesn't take too long.


	29. Bend and Break

Author's Note: I have decided that I am going to do reviewer rewards again. Our goal is 250 reviews (oh, yes, I went there). The individual review count would cut off at the 250 mark. Then the three reviewers with the most reviews will win review requests! If we get that far, the winners will be notified of further rules via PM. And in the case of a tie concerning more than three reviewers, the placing will be determined by word count. (You know I love you, Axxi.)

Read on!

Recommended Listening: Turn Me Loose by Loverboy

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><p><strong>Ilber Schmidt, District 7<strong>

I'm on watch when the sun finally rises. Everyone else is still snoozing away, especially Osso, who was apparently dumb enough to stay on watch until this morning when he woke me up. Magya doesn't look like she's waking up anytime soon, either...

I pad over to Ax and nudge at her to wake her up. She immediately rolls over, for some reason muttering that she doesn't like tea. I nudge her a few more times, and she finally pulls herself out of her dream and blinks at me confusedly.

"Don't say anything," I whisper, tiptoeing over to Journs. She halfheartedly swats at me but wakes up at the first nudge.

Once they're both awake enough to hear me whisper, I do so.

"So, I figured you two are about as tired of this sucky Career arrangement as I am."

Ax nods, while Journs blinks, perking up. "Are we going to kill everybody?"

"Eh, not just yet." I glance back at the dreamland group before turning back to the others.

"So, we know Osso's not going to to give up his authority for anything, but the Career group sucks when he's leading it. So, I say we run off and make our own Career group."

They ponder this for a second.

"Just the three of us?" Ax finally says. "Or are we bringing Sheen, too?"

I glance back at the Cornucopia. "We'll see what happens with Feli first. I don't want that scrap of a loser dragging us down like Osso does."

"So, we're not doing it right away, then?" Journs asks.

"No, I'm not sure they're asleep enough yet. And they're too close to the Cornucopia for us to make off with the supplies."

Journs nods before pausing. "But what if we just kill them all now?"

Knowing her, I reply, "Then we'd have to do it fast and quiet."

She immediately frowns.

"And, we should probably keep Osso alive so D1 can get more donations. And your mentor's hopefully not stupid enough to keep giving them to Osso."

Ax nods.

"So, we got a deal?" I say. Ax nods, and Journs shrugs approvingly.

"Sweet." I look back again to see Magya starting to stir. Finished up just in time, looks like.

"We'll talk more later." With that, I turn around and start towards the Cornucopia to find some breakfast.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

My second attempt to pin down the rabbit isn't any better than the first. Of course, I'm trying to kill it by doing nothing but throwing an off-balance cleaver at it. Unsuprisingly, I don't have a tendency to even nick the fur.

Already sweaty and exhausted, I end up trying one more time. The rabbit escapes, this time hopping out of sight.

I mutter to myself hungrily as I walk back towards our bushes. We haven't been getting any less water since Den stopped being in the alliance—apparently his mentor must not have been too fond of him—but we don't have a source of food anymore.

I throw in a swear word amongst my grumbling. Maybe we shouldn't have left. He may have been suspicious, but he at least got us food.

Well. No turning back now. We just have to go with it.

I arrive at the closest thing we have to camp, the patch of bushes. Tina is still sitting there, staring off into space and rocking on and off her heels. She doesn't notice me when I sit down next to her.

"T'na."

She finally turns her face to me, but it still doesn't seem like she sees me.

"N' l'ck," I continue. "I'm j'st n't g'd at c'tch'ng r'bb'ts."

She blinks, her gaze finally focusing. "How?" she gets out unspecifically.

Assuming she meant to ask how I was hunting, I reply, "I w's j'st thr'w'ng th' h'tch't at 'm. It d'sn't w'rk v'ry w'll."

She blinks again before looking back in front of her. "No trap?"

"D'n't kn'w h'w t' b'ld one."

She falls silent again, and I start sweeping some soil and leaf bits off the blade. That's about as much as I expect out of her. It's unnerving, but at least she's doing some talking now. I think she'll recover all right. It'll take a while, though.

"I can build one."

Caught off-guard by both the sudden speech and the full sentence, I jerk just enough to nick my fingertip. Wiping the subsequent drop or two of blood off on my unused jacket, I look back over at Tina, who hasn't turned back towards me.

"L't's b'ld one, th'n."

Tina doesn't respond for a minute but suddenly jumps to her feet and starts looking at the tree branches near us.

"Oh, wait!" she exclaims, pushing out of the bushes and scampering a few metres away. "We can't have it too close to us, or they'll smell us, so we have to have it far away, so they can't smell us, but it still has to be the right kind of branch if we make that kind, and—" She suddenly bursts into jittery laughter and plops down on her rear.

Frowning, I hurry over, setting the cleaver down carefully before putting my hands on her shoulders.

"T'na. C'lm d'wn." She stops to take a gasping breath but goes back to laughing, a drop or two of water sliding down her cheek.

"T'na!"

She finally starts to slow down a little, the gasps for breath between sharp laughs growing longer and longer. She finally gets to a weak chuckle and trails off.

I stay silent for a while, not wanting to press my luck.

"...H'w d' we b'ld it?" I finally ask quietly, hoping I can get her to shift gears into something mildly sane and useful.

As always, she doesn't respond for a minute but eventually wobbles to her feet and looks around. She points at a young tree two metres away.

"That looks good."

I nod, picking up the cleaver discreetly and walking over to the sapling. Tina starts to follow me blankly but is interrupted by a falling parachute. She's still in her right mind enough to separate the parachute to reveal a length of nice-looking wire.

"Oh, good," she responds, not sounding excited at all. She scuttles the rest of the way to the tree and proceeds to look at the top of the tree she chose and back down at the wire.

"Okay, so..." She looks at the tree again. "We start by bending over a branch..." She reaches up but can't quite seem to reach the top of a branch, despite this sapling being the shortest tree in the area. I end up getting hold of it for her and bending it down. It apparently makes the right kind of arc, as she goes on with the instructions.

"So we have to tie one end of this to that, and..." She trails off, winding some of the wire around the tip as I hold it down. She attempts a knot, but it loosens immediately.

"Um..."

"W'nt me t' try?"

She nods, and she just ends up laying down the blueprint, which I follow. We set up a few of these before Tina's sanity goes out the window again. Then I lead her back to camp, and there we wait, stewing away in the insanity of the place as much as the heat.

**Aurth Unikin, District 6**

This is a bit of a problem.

I'm sort of choking at the moment, as a particularly strong winged mutt has decided to lift me away with its beak clamped on The Hood. While it really is nice to be aloft, as none of my levitation spells have ever needed to work, it's a bit troublesome when the one part of The Hood keeping it secured to me is cutting off my air supply. In theory, I could untie it, but where would I be then? The Hood is the source of my powers! I cannot abandon it!

I struggle, trying to dissuade the bird from taking me any further, but it isn't affected. As black starts to streak back and forth across my vision, I try to get out a curse, though I'm not sure it would work on an animal, but I can't get any more air out of my windpipe than I can get in.

I'm going to die if I don't take off The Hood. But where would I be without it? I can't...

With a last choke, everything goes darker than night.


	30. Follow Instructions

Author's Note: Sorry for the short chapter. It just didn't want to cooperate any other way.

Recommended Listening: Medley: Killer Queen / Bohemian Rhapsody / Somebody to Love by The Dartmouth Aires

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><p><strong>Plutonia Agnelli, District 10<strong>

"Maybe we'll get something for lunch?"

I sigh, putting my chin on my knees. "I don't think so. We haven't been sent anything but one package of dried meat since Den died." I bury my face in the knees of my trousers. "I guess nobody was sponsoring me, just him. But then, why would they? I'm just another underdog. And I'm going to die like the rest of—"

A burst of water slaps me in the head hard, and I come up spluttering. Shiran, his water boot still poised in his arms, starts to grin at me.

"Quit being such a wet blanket!" he nags. "We have to just stop worrying a little bit if we don't want to be depressed the whole time!"

I push my wet bangs out of my face. "Was that our fresh water?" I moan, thumping my head back against a tree trunk. "What a waste!"

"It's not like we can't just go get more," Shiran dismisses with a shrug.

"No, we can't!" I counter, rubbing my forehead. "Have you already forgotten about the fish? It's going to kill us the next time we go, I just know it!"

Shiran rolls his eyes. "No, it's not!"

"Oh, don't say that! You're jinxing us for sure!"

"Well, I wouldn't have to say anything like that if you would just stop talking about how everything's going to kill us in the first place."

Not having a response, I just put my forehead back on my knees in silence.

There's a rustling of leaves as Shiran sits down next to me. I stubbornly refuse to look up.

"Smile." He pokes my forehead and tilts it up so I can see him. "You heard me, smile."

"There's nothing to smile about in this place," I mutter.

"Then why am I smiling?"

I sigh, averting my gaze. "Because you're weird? I don't know..."

He... He just doesn't get it. Even though his own brother died here, he doesn't seem to understand we're going to, too. We're already running out of food, we've already almost been something _else's _food, and-and nothing. He's just chipper as ever. I wonder if there's something wrong with him. Well, whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be letting up.

"C'mon, smile or I'll make you."

I look at him dubiously.

"I'll make you!" He grins mischievously.

I get a second to stare back at him hopelessly before he lunges.

...I really wish I wasn't quite so ticklish.

Apparently squirming around and giggling uncontrollably counts as smiling, so Shiran stops after I finally control my laughing enough to tell him to.

"Told ya," he finishes, leaning back against the tree.

"Okay, you win," I pant, just aware that I'm still smiling even though he's stopped tickling me.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

I drift back to wakefulness. Some light is filtering in through my eyelids, but I don't feel the need to open them. I feel hungrier than before. Should I go back to sleep...?

At some point I seem to realise I'm sitting up, not on branches. That's not right... There's no way I should have moved...

Eventually, the curiosity and confusion get the best of me, and I unclose my eyes. It's so bright I can't see any more than when my eyes were closed. Eventually, though, I get used to it enough and start to see blurred trees meeting the sky.

So I'm still in the Games. It wasn't a dream, and I haven't gotten out of it.

My vision clears, and I realise the trees aren't right up next to me. They're all actually quite a ways off. Where am I, then? I think I'm sitting on sand... Sand... Where have I seen sand before...?

"Feli!"

I drag my gaze down to see who could have possibly called my name.

Careers.

Suddenly I remember where the sand was. This is around the Cornucopia, where the Careers make camp, _and one of them is running straight towards me!_

In a subconscious series of jerks, I get to my feet, but I'm too weak and frozen with fear to get any further than that. I can feel a few of the others looking at me, while Sheen takes a final stride towards me. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself and trembling, when he throws his arms around me.

"You're awake," he breathes, not letting go. I just continue shaking, wondering what he's going to do to me and deciding I don't want to think about it.

He pulls away, keeping a grip on my shoulders. "Are you feeling okay?"

I open my mouth, but all that comes out is distressed warbles. Somehow I'm hydrated enough for tears to gather at the corners of my eyes.

Th-there are Careers... everywhere... Everyone who w-wants to kill me, in one place that's r-right next to me... H-how could I feel okay?

"Hey, hey, relax," Sheen says. He frowns, furrowing his brow a bit. The resulting expression is so terrifying I can't help but try to flinch away.

"I-I'm sorry! I'll d-do anything, just don't hit me!" I suddenly realise this would probably make him even more unhappy and shrink away.

"Nobody's going to hit you! I... I won't let them, okay?" he mutters, casting his gaze down. Not knowing what to make of this, I just stay still, sniffling.

There's a slight clinking as someone walks up on the edge of my vision. I take two slippery steps back, but I don't actually move since Sheen has me more or less pinned to the Cornucopia. Sheen turns his head, looking at the newcomer suspiciously and gripping my shoulders a little tighter.

The one who walked up—I forgot his name—looks down at me expressionless.

"From this day on, you are going to be our servant," he starts. "I shall ensure you will not be hurt as long as you loyally obey me."

Sheen hasn't stopped glaring at him. "Obey _you_?" he half-growls. I shrink back against the Cornucopia a little.

"I am the leader of this group; my word is final." He looks back at me. "I shall take care of your provisions and such, and you will perform any task I assign to you. Any questions?"

I'm breathing too shakily from crying to ask anything, but the leader doesn't look away. Afraid he's going to hurt me if I don't ask something, I open my mouth, getting out a meaningless stammer before my stomach suddenly growls.

I finally ask, "D-do you have any pasta?"

"No." He adjusts his glasses, no longer looking at me. "Although you will get some rations when we begin lunch. In the meantime..." He picks up some cube-shaped metal thing off the ground and holds it out to me. I glance worriedly at Sheen, who still seems unhappy but doesn't seem about to stop me. I go ahead and take the thing with shaking hands. It feels heavy, even though I can tell it's empty.

"I'll show you to the river," he says, starting to walk to the other side of the sand. "I'll be sending you there periodically to get us more water."

Sheen finally loosens his grip on me, but I'm too shaken up to go anywhere.

"I gave you an order, Feli. Follow me. Sheen, you may come as well, if you like."

Trembling harder, I finally make myself step after him. Sheen takes one of my hands and comes along as the leader pushes the first dark branches of the jungle away.


	31. Blood Is Thicker

Recommended Listening: Who Are You by Tufts Beelzebubs

* * *

><p><strong>Norge Oslo, District 8<strong>

We're sitting in our usual hideout, silently contemplating the newest cannon, when Ise suddenly decides to say something.

"So... What's your family like?" he starts, staying quiet and looking away when he finishes the question.

"Why do you ask?"

"I... don't know," he mutters. "I'm just..." He cuts himself off before he can say "bored". I'm sure the Gamemakers wouldn't find giving us something to do, had he said it.

We're silent for another moment, just in case the Gamemakers figured out his sentence anyway, but nothing seems to happen.

"My family, huh?" I start, shifting my feet. "I'm an only child. I have a wonderful mother, Cecilie. And... the only person who could claim to be my father... ran off to another district before I was born."

"Huh." Ise crosses his arms before deciding it's his turn to talk. "I'm an only child, too. I have a mom and a dad. Svana and Vike."

I narrowly manage to keep a neutral look on my face when he says the names.

"...Vike, you said...?"

"Eh? Yeah," Ise responds slowly. Obviously Vike hasn't achieved much to be famous for.

Aside from getting my mother pregnant. And... Apparently...

"Vike," I repeat.

Ise just looks at me. "That's his name. Are you... feeling all right?"

"I'm... fine." I go ahead and take a swig from my canteen to assure him. "You're... from Nine?"

He nods. "And you're from Eight," he says, not quite sure where this is going.

"Our districts share a border."

Not getting where the geography lesson came up, Ise just holds my gaze.

"The border my father crossed to never come back," I continue.

"All right...?"

"My father, Vike."

I realise I'm holding my breath about the time Ise turns away.

"It's a different one," he says.

"I don't think 'Vike' is that common a name." I catch myself getting louder and take a breath before continuing. "My father ran off to District 9, you're from District 9, you're a year younger than me, and how have I not noticed how much you look like me?"

"Norge, you're getting overexcited," Ise deadpans without looking back at me. He shifts uncomfortably. "...When's your birthday?"

"17th of May."

"So, you turned seventeen just the other week, right?"

"Yeah."

"My birthday's only a month after that." He shakes his head. "There's just no way. My parents were married for several months before they had me."

I take a second before asking, "Was Vike in District 9 the whole time?"

"Of course he was! My father's not the scumbag you're making him out to be, okay? He would never get a girl pregnant and just leave her there!"

"He left before a month passed," I respond, nearly talking to myself. "He wouldn't have known I existed."

"He was already married! He wouldn't—"

"Ise," I interrupt, holding my tone carefully as we're getting dangerously loud, "think about it. Everyone does bad things at some point, and there's just too much here for it all to be a coincidence."

"_I am an only child_!" Ise responds, turning firmly away from me.

"No," I murmur. "You're my brother."

"I would rather be an only child," he mutters more correctly.

Not sure what else I could say, I fall silent.

...Well. I... have a little brother. And he's in the Games. That... sort of throws a wrench into my strategy. I wasn't thinking too hard about having to kill him before, but—I can't murder my own brother! Big brothers are supposed to protect their siblings! But how could I win with that...?

You screwed us up, Vike. You really did. What am I supposed to do now? Kill my brother? Or kill my mother psychologically? What...

Just... Let's just not think about it right now. We've still only been here less than a week—I think—so I don't need to get too hasty...

I look at my brother once more before l lie back, listening to make sure no one's coming for either of us.

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

Now that the Careers have made more than a few voyages to the river and back, it doesn't take long for Osso, Feli, and me to reach it. Or, at least it wouldn't if Feli were in better shape. She's just so weak, and worn down, and tired, and how could I let this happen to her...?

I've been carrying her a lot of the way. Combined, we're too tall to navigate through all of the branches easily. And since there's no way I'm letting one of those things scratch her and give her an infection, I have to bend or break everything in our path. There's a lot in our path.

But Osso does help out a little, though he'll let a few held-back branches whip me if I'm going too slow. Maybe he's not so bad a guy. He did bring me Feli back. If he just acted a bit less stuck-up, I probably wouldn't mind him being in charge. As long as he doesn't hurt Feli, I should be all right with him.

I think of looking back at Feli, but since she's on my back I really can't. I'm... almost carrying her as much to keep her from fainting as to keep her from running away. Why is she so scared—Okay, that's not much of a question. I've been trained to kill everyone in this arena for my whole life. And apparently I don't have the most friendly face, either.

But how am I supposed to prove I'm not going to hurt her? Telling her I love her isn't enough, and neither is carrying her or promising no one's going to hurt her... This kind of thing happened in the Games before. I forget what year, but there was a girl from Eleven terrified of her districtmate. And she died before that ever changed.

Well, it won't be that way with Feli. I have absolutely no clue how, but it just won't. She's not going to die, and she's not going to stay afraid of me, and no one's going to get in the way of that.

**Osso Torya, District 1**

Though Feli isn't in good enough shape to do her own walking, we get to the river before noon. Sheen lets her down carefully, still holding her hand, and gives back the canteen.

"Now you're going to get us some water," I instruct her. "It's a simple process. Hold the canteen halfway underwater or so, and when it's as full as it's going to get that way, submerge it. The river doesn't flow quite so fast right next to the bank, but I imagine you'll still need to use both hands." At this last point, Sheen bristles a bit.

"You will always have some sort of escort with you, just in case someone else—" I can tell Sheen knows I mostly mean the fish— "comes by, so you shouldn't worry about that. So, go ahead."

A moment passes before Sheen begrudgingly lets go of Feli and walks a few paces upstream. He grips his sword hilt tightly, scrutinising the water's surface. Feli just stays seated wobbily for a moment, staring blankly at the river. She finally shuffles a little closer and, with shaking hands, dips the canteen the slightest bit underwater. She has a little trouble keeping her grip, but follows the technique enough to fill it. She just isn't quite strong enough to lift it back out.

Sheen takes a step back, starting to turn to help her.

"Sheen—!" He looks at me suspiciously before I bark for him to turn around.

Only then does he see the fish.

With an exclamation, he draws his sword, hurrying forwards to make sure it can't get to Feli before he gets to it. I get to my knees with a frown and lift Feli's cargo out of the water as she catches her first glance of the mutt. She immediately shrieks and tries to run away, but I grab her arm. This startles her into wailing, but Sheen is otherwise occupied and can't call me out for it.

He's gouged the fish nicely by now, and he manages to guide the bleeding mass of animal to the shore with his sword. Panting, he turns around to check on Feli, who has by now calmed down to just be sniffling and quivering. Relieved, he turns back around, hauling the huge carcass onto the rocks.

So, from one trip, water, food, and perhaps a bit more of Sheen's allegiance. Sounds like a good excursion to me.


	32. Animals

Recommended Listening: Stop Dragging My Heart Around by Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks

* * *

><p><strong>Plutonia Agnelli, District 10<strong>

I'm sitting on the shore peacefully when Shiran comes running in from the jungle.

"Plutonia! Can we eat this?"

I turn around just as Shiran comes to rest beside me. In his hands is a bright, splotchy-blue frog.

"That is not okay to eat!" I scuttle backwards to get away from it. "That-that-that's not okay to touch! Get rid of it right now!"

"Okay, okay." Way too calm, Shiran throws the creature underhanded back into the forest.

"Wash your hands! Wash your hands right now!" I demand, pulling my feet out of the seawater. "Bright frogs are poisonous, and it's on their skin, and-and..." Head spinning, I just watch for a second as he vigorously scrubs at his palms.

" 'Sokay," he says, looking up at me without stopping his washing. "I don't feel sick or anything."

My immediate response is a drawn-out whining sound. "Shiran, don't touch things if you don't know what they are!"

"Well, you said you weren't going into the jungle anytime you didn't have to, so..."

I shrink a little. "Just... be careful." Somehow I don't really think it's going to help so much to tell him that one more time. "We still have enough food for today. We can just stick with that for now and try to hunt later, okay?"

"Okay. Will you come with me then?"

"Somebody has to keep an eye on you," I sigh, leaning on a hand.

"All right. We'll go looking tomorrow," he decides, pulling his hands out of the water and shaking the droplets off.

**Ise Javik, District 9**

Norge and I haven't talked since this morning. We're out scavenging for food now, hoping we can find some more meat instead of just tasteless plants. Hopefully we'll have more luck than Den seemed to have.

I glance at Norge before turning back to the trees.

He's not my brother. It's not possible; I don't care what he says—

Oh, forget it. I know he's right. I just... I don't want to believe it. Because if I believe it, my dad cheated on Mom before they had even been married that long.

Well. I guess the truth doesn't really depend on whether I believe it or not.

I continue to squint at the branches for birds or any other creatures. We haven't found anything yet, and the afternoon's gotten so hot we've drunk all of our water already. But we'll survive. The brush is thick enough it's hard to lose track of the trail we've left, so we'll be fine once we decide to get back to the river. Which will hopefully be once we've gotten something to eat.

What seems like hours later, Norge finally gets hold of a four-legged something I've never seen. It goes down with one swing of the axe. Norge picks the thing up by the tail and, after a quick examination, starts skinning it.

Without stopping he says, "Gather some firewood, will you, little bro?" His blank expression doesn't change, but I can practically feel his surge of delight at calling me that.

"All right, big bro."

Norge looks up at me, so surprised he actually smiles.

"I'm never calling you that again," I continue bluntly, turning away.

He just keeps merrily skinning away as I start gathering branches. The medium-sized ones are easy enough, but the tinder kind of wood is a little harder to come by. Once I get to some better-looking bark, I'll probably choose that...

I lean over to pick up a good-looking fallen branch. When I come back up, I find myself looking straight at Mr. Puffin.

"Ah..." I almost drop the wood. That's definitely Mr. Puffin. His stomach's black, and he has the same bowtie-shaped mark just under his neck. He doesn't seem to recognise me, but he doesn't turn defensive when I take a careful step towards him.

"Mr. Puffin?"

He squawks.

With a little laugh, I set the wood down and scoop him up. He just squawks again before snuggling into my chest.

So. That firewood.

**Journs Sykop, District 4**

Osso sent for us to meet him at the river. Apparently the fish is too big to bring back to camp unless it's already in pieces. Makes sense to me. It's a wonder how Sheen even managed to pull the thing out of the water.

So, everyone but Magya, who's back guarding our supplies, is gathered out here, working to carve up the mutt into manageable pieces.

"Journs."

I look up from where I'm carving.

"You're from the fishing district," Osso continues. "What's the best way for us to preserve this?"

"Hm?" I glance back down at the fish. "Well, we could probably make jerky. We don't have one of those home factories or anything, but if someone sends us a dehydrator, we can use that. It'll take a _lot _of time to dry that many batches, though."

"We have some time. We might as well not waste any of this." He pauses, continuing to "supervise" us cutting the fish up. "But be sure to stop once you hit bone. This did swallow Antonio a little while ago, so..."

Ax stops peeling away long enough to make a gagging noise. "Eww," she moans, putting a hand over her eyes as if it would help dispel the mental image of cutting too far and finding a half-digested Antonio.

I just burst out laughing at the thought.

"Being careful isn't the same as ceasing work," Osso says, looking pointedly at Ax and me, who have put down our blades.

"Yessir," I respond, getting back to slicing the fish. Ax takes another second to get over what might still be in the creature before she joins back in.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

Our traps are still empty, but we got some more water donated. I wonder why we seem to have so many sponsors. Or maybe there's just no actual water in this arena, so everyone is having it donated. That would explain why we haven't had any food sent. Or maybe we just need water more than food. That sounds perfectly sensible.

I'm just reflecting on water. There's not much else to do. There's nothing to eat, no one to run from, and more or less no one to talk to. Tina still acts like her head's full of butterflies. She'll have those moments of sense, but she can't hold up a conversation. She'll just start to say something and cut off laughing.

Now she's staring off into space silently. That seems to be her usual activity. Not that I'm much different at that point. I wonder if she's thinking anything, or if she's just as blank on the inside as her face is on the outside. Somehow I feel like the second option's more likely.

"Sui?"

I look up. Tina's face has changed slightly, but she's still not facing me.

"Y's?"

Tina turns her head towards me.

"Can I borrow the cleaver?"

I just hold her gaze for a while, wondering if she's planning anything, or if this is just an insane whim. EIther way, I don't want to give it to her.

I don't want to give it to her. I don't trust her with a weapon. I didn't trust Den with a weapon, so I left him. Why have I been staying around with Tina, then?

She's turned back away now, apparently forgetting she asked me for something.

I think I was hoping she'd get better. But... She's really damaged. It wasn't just her immediate reaction to doing... that. She's not just going to wake up one day and decide it's time to be sane. And I just can't trust an insane person.

I stand up. Tina doesn't take notice. I take a step back. Still no movement on her part.

...Why do I feel guilty about this? I'm in the Hunger Games. She would have to kill me, anyway. I... don't want to be alone. And she wouldn't either. But... I just can't stay with someone I don't trust.

"...S'rry, T'na."

I run off.


	33. Protectors

Recommended Listening: Tall Cool One by Robert Plant

* * *

><p><strong>Sheen Sehre, District 2<strong>

We've cut up all of the fish we can manage and carried all of it back to camp by suppertime. Preparing all of it is another matter, though. Journs has already been sentenced to work the dehydrator we were sent, while Osso is carefully finding the best cuts for himself and the next-best ones for us to have fresh. By the time Magya and Ax have set up a fire, Journs has decided it really doesn't take a Four to put meat in a compartment, close the lid, and push a button. Osso assigns Feli to it, and I end up helping get the dried strips organised.

We're barely a third of the way through with the jerky-making when dinner is ready. Plates are passed out, with meat still on the spits, and Feli and I lean back against a blanket over the searing-hot Cornucopia.

Feli looks at the meat uncertainly even though her stomach's growling loudly.

"Feli," I start quietly, picking up my own piece. She turns towards me, protectively curling into herself a bit.

"It's fine to eat, okay?" I take a big bite out of my meat. It's actually pretty good. After taking just enough time to swallow, I inform Feli of this.

She looks back at her piece, seeming dejected. But after a minute she finally picks it up quaveringly and nibbles at the end. Assured it's all right to eat, she starts chomping, and it's gone within a minute. She sighs, setting the plate and stick down. Her stomach growls again.

Feeling vaguely guilty that I still have fish on my plate, I stop eating for a moment.

"Feli? When... was the last time you ate?"

She stays curled up for a minute before just shaking her head.

It dawns on me with a cold shiver. "You... haven't eaten anything here...?"

She nods, clenching her eyes shut as tears start to gather in them.

"So—So what am I doing, still eating this?" I exclaim, putting my plate down in front of her. "Go ahead; I'll just get some of the dried stuff, all right?"

I get up to go fetch the rest of my meal, but Feli's still just looking at my half a dish blankly.

"Hey, Feli... It's all right to eat," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. She immediately yelps and shrinks away.

"Sorry," she whimpers, shakily but hurriedly picking up my plate and tucking into the remainder of my fish.

Averting my gaze so she won't think I'm mad at her, I wander over to the dried fish and halfheartedly take a strip. I go ahead and grab a full canteen, setting it next to Feli but not making it seem like I particularly want her to drink it. She pauses, a few tears silently slipping down her cheeks, but eventually takes it and gets a long draught of water.

Feli... I'm not your boss, I'm your boyfriend. Well, your wannabe-boyfriend. You don't have to do anything because I say to. I just... want you to feel better, all right?

I glance at her but can't bring myself to say anything. How would she take it? She's... so darn scared... I have no idea what I'm supposed to do...

I just leave her to herself until it's time to get back to dehydrating. We slip back into working without fuss, but she still doesn't look at me.

We finish by sunset. Another hunt's going to happen tonight, so I volunteer to stay behind with Feli, who's _hardly_ thinking about going out with them. Osso decides to go ahead and leave Ilber behind, too.

Feli's ready to sleep the minute the others leave. She closes her eyes and leans back against the Cornucopia, which has started to cool down.

"You can use a sleeping bag if you want to," I say quietly. "A-and you can not use a sleeping bag if you want to," I add hastily.

Feli just looks at me drearily for a moment before barely pulling herself to her feet.

"No, here, I can get it." I hurry over and take a bundle out of the Cornucopia. After smoothing out a large enough patch of sand, I lay the bag out and throw part of the top cover off so she can get in. Feli's so tired she almost doesn't make it over, but she manages, and she's curled up in the bag in another minute.

I keep watch for a while, and soon I realise she still hasn't fallen asleep.

"Feli...?" By now I know I need to keep my voice as soft as possible. I walk over slowly and sit down by her. "Are you all right? Not thirsty, or... cold or anything?"

She shakes her head feebly and curls up a little tighter.

"It's okay. You don't have anything to worry about, all right?" I murmur, pushing a few strands of hair out of her face. She turns a bit red, and, realising what I just did, I pull away and look away fidgeting. "A-and, um, well, I mean... You know..." I stop myself.

Augh! Why do I have to be so awkward?

Barely restraining myself from banging my head on something, I finally start to calm down enough to actually say something other than blather.

"Just... Anything you need, I'll take care of it, okay? You don't have to be worried about anything."

Feli closes her eyes and nods quickly, shuffling a little in the bag to get comfortable. With a sigh, I leave her alone and watch her from the back of the Cornucopia next to Ilber.

"...Hey, Sheen."

I glance at him before looking back at Feli. "What?"

"Some of the girls and I are going to split off and make our own Career group. You want in?"

"What do you mean by that?" I respond, knitting my eyebrows even though he can't see them. "I know Osso acts like a jerk, but he really isn't that bad."

Ilber laughs. "Yeah? Why, because he dragged her over here?"

"Maybe," I hiss back.

Ilber shakes his head. "And why do you think he did that? From the good of his heart?" He snorts. "Come on. He just wants more leverage over you. He knows he couldn't take you himself, so why not get a little ground over you this way? You know all he has to do is threaten her, and you're his obedient little puppy dog."

I glare at him. "If he threatens her, he won't live much longer."

"Then why are you waiting?"

I turn back towards Feli, who's finally resting peacefully.

"But... Earlier, at the river, when the fish attacked... He got Feli out of the way," I finally say, more thinking out loud than formulating my defence.

"He knew you all weren't in danger. He only pretended to stick his neck out to trick you into trusting him." I don't respond, and he rolls his eyes. "Come on, Sheen. He's the self-proclaimed head of the Careers. He doesn't help people, he uses them."

I still don't say anything, instead shaking my head softly.

"Fine, be that way," Ilber responds, crossing his arms. "But, just so you know, we'll be taking all of the supplies with us when we leave. If you don't want her to starve, you'd better come along." He turns his back to me, signifying the conversation is over.

I continue to watch Feli, wondering how in the name of Panem I'm going to keep her safe in this mess.

**Tina Sinki, District 9**

Something doesn't seem quite right. Um... Oh! Sui isn't here. That's weird. I remember her leaving, but I would think she'd be back by now. She usually doesn't take very long when she goes off to try to get food or find a donation or go check on the traps, and the traps haven't really gotten anything yet, and I really wish they would because we haven't had much to eat, definitely not recently since Den hasn't caught us anything, and Den is dead because I killed him, and I killed him, so he's dead—

This tree doesn't look familiar. I stare at it uncomprehendingly. It's definitely a different tree than earlier. But I don't remember walking anywhere. Huh. I guess the jungle must have moved, then.

I wander off, wondering where the bush I was hiding in ran off to.


	34. Lighten Up

Recommended Listening: With a Little Help From My Friends by The Beatles

* * *

><p><strong>Livna Wickham, District 1<strong>

We're back to the Cornucopia by midnight. This hunt was about as successful as most of ours have been. Ah, well. I guess most Careers get a stroke of bad luck now and then.

Ilber's fallen asleep, but Sheen is still standing. Apparently he just doesn't like sleep very much, because he avoids it like the plague.

Osso decides we need to relieve him of his watch, and I volunteer for some reason. I don't know why, since watch is really boring.

I stay on the lookout for a while, sometimes noticing Sheen's eyes opening on Feli for a moment, but nothing of interest happens. I go nudge Magya to wake up and go to my sleeping bag.

I fell like I'm forgetting something.

I glance over at Ilber. Did it have something to do with him...?

Oh, nevermind. It's probably nothing.

I doze off.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

"It's about time to get up." Something nudges my shoulder. I drowsily wonder what's going on until I wake up enough to, er, wake up.

Plutonia's face is just a little above mine. I smile at her, and she halfway reciprocates before pulling back to let me get up. For a second I forget we're in a tree, and I try to put my foot down on ground that isn't there. I flip over, and I'm just barely able to catch some branches before I go flying off the tree.

"Shiran!"

"I'm fine," I say loudly before she can get much further. Shifting my arms, I flip myself back upright. "You ready to go looking for food?"

"Um, right." She starts climbing down timidly, while I go down a few branches before jumping the rest of the distance. Landing with an "oof", I hop over to my other boot, make sure nothing's floating in it, and take a swig. Once Plutonia's down, I offer her some, and once we've drained it I shake it out and put it on.

"All right! Let's get going." I look at the trees for a minute before deciding to take us the direction opposite the saltwater shore.

The morning light is slowly drained away by the foliage above as we progress. It feels like we're the only ones awake; it's so silent out footsteps seem horribly loud. We keep tiptoeing, me looking for any animals and her more worried about other tributes. Seems like a good arrangement to me.

There aren't many animals around this place, it looks like. I think I see something jump behind a bunch of leaves, but once I push them away, only dirt stares back at me.

After a few repeats of this, Plutonia catches my attention.

"Maybe we should just go back."

I blink at her. "But we haven't found anything yet."

"Well, maybe we'll run into something we missed?" She looks at her feet. "And I'm getting kind of thirsty, too, but..."

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?" She motions for me to not be so loud. "Let's go on back, then."

She nods quickly, but she waits for me to take the lead before she starts walking back. We're about haflway back to where we slept when she opens her mouth again.

"Sh-Shiran?"

"Yeah?" I glance over my shoulder, but she's only looking at me.

"Why are you scratching your hands?"

I don't realise I was until she brings it up. "Uh, because they're kind of itchy? ...You're not getting too overheated or anything, are ya?"

"Er, no..." Flustered, she doesn't say anything else for a few paces. "But you haven't been scratching your hands, and then yesterday you had that frog in your hands, and-and..."

"Huh?" I stop walking and pivot to face her. "You think it's from that? No, that doesn't make sense. That was yesterday, and I've washed my hands really well a couple of times since then."

"But... But if just a little bit stuck around..."

"Then why is it only bothering me now?"

"Well, maybe it was before, and we just didn't notice..."

I shake my head, turning back towards the direction of the shore and walking again.

"Even if it is, my hands are _itching_. It's not like I'm having seizures or anything." I turn just long enough to smile at her. "Don't worry about it, all right?"

"But..." Having nothing else to say, she just looks at her shoes and nods.

**Feli Vargas, District 3**

I've been ordered back to the river to get water for lunch. Sheen insists on coming with me, and Osso tells him something quietly before allowing us to leave.

It's achingly quiet as we move through the jungle. I don't like the jungle. I don't like any of this, but...

I don't know. I can't even decide whether I feel safer or more endangered with Sheen by me. He hasn't hurt me, and he's fed me... It should be a good thing to have a protector, but... my sister had one, too...

I find I've started sniffling again and try to stay quiet so Sheen won't get upset.

I keep the two canteens clutched to my stomach—Sheen is carrying the rest—as we continue walking. I'm still tired, but it's hard to think that yesterday I was barely able to stand. I'm still not sure I'll be able to walk the whole distance, but...

The river approaches before I feel too faint, and I hurry the last few steps to the bank. The first canteen I fill halfway before gulping the water down myself. Watching the light-coloured waves splash along, I get the canteen full and start to pull it out. It's too heavy.

I glance over at Sheen, who's putting the lid on one canteen and watching the river like it's an enemy.

"Sh... Sheen...?"

"Ah?" He immediately spins himself around to face me. "What is it?"

Feeling sweltry under his gaze, I swallow and nod at the half-submerged canteen.

"Ah! Sorry! Here..." He shuffles over, setting his canteen down and carefully helping fish mine out of the water by gripping its nozzle.

I quietly nod a thanks and get the next canteen filled. Although he in the meantime got another of his full, Sheen's ready to help the second I decide it's time to ask for him. He hurries over, reaching for this canteen a little lower so he can get a better grip. His last two fingers end up overlapping my own. Sheen immediately turns red and lets go.

"Sheen?"

"A-ah, um, r-right." He goes back in for the bottle quickly, plucking it out of the water before he can perceive my hand by his. He quickly screws the cap on, though he's so flustered it takes him a good five tries.

"A-are you... okay...?"

He looks at me surprised, and I shrink into myself a little.

"I-I'm fine," he finally gets out, still sort of confused. He hesitates a moment, looking at the river. "How... are you feeling, Feli?"

"U-um..." I look down at my hands. "I'm okay... Not great, but... okay..."

Sheen nods, fidgeting nervously before he can bring himself to keep up the conversation. "Are you, u-um... still hungry?"

"A little bit..." It's easier to talk to him when I'm not looking at him. "But I-I can wait..."

"They'll be starting lunch once we get back. Here, I'll finish these up so we can get back ASAP, all right?"

I feel like I need to meet his gaze. I try not to tremble. "O-okay."

Sheen beams at me and hurries to get the rest of the canteens filled himself.

I'm not used to him smiling. He's usually too worried... but... he's really cute when he smiles...

I don't know. I shouldn't be near him. He's a Career, and he's with the other Careers. All of them have to kill me, and Grandpa told me to stay away from them.

But Sheen's so nice to me... And I... sort of...

But he still has to kill me! I... I...

"F-Feli! What's wrong?"

I jerk out of my thoughts to hear myself crying. Sheen, a half-filled canteen in one hand, is squatting in front of me, a little bit scared.

"I... N-nothing... I'm okay..."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-h-huh..."

"O... Okay..." His gaze rests on me a while longer before he goes to finish what he was doing.


	35. Past and Future

Author's Note: TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO HUUUUUUNDRED FIIIIIIIIIIIFFTYYYYYYYYYYY

*balloons and confetti rain from the sky* We've made and passed it! Thanks so much, everyone!

And speaking of thanks... So who's won the Reviewer Rewards?

Our two reviewers in first place, for reviewing every chapter before the 250 mark, are Obiwanlivesforever and Axxi! And the final reviewer Victor, winning the competition over another by only one review in the nick of time is...

SnuffyOfTheWind!

Next was Soccbballluvr13; Serpent's Ballet, Rainbow and Pastry Puffin Co., and ShabuShamu weren't too far behind. For our three winners, I'll PM the rules of your request, and I hope those of you who just missed the count will be happy enough with this chapter. :)

Recommended Listening: Rubicon by Journey

* * *

><p><strong>Sui Holmes, District 11<strong>

One of the new snares caught something.

It's just some sort of rabbit, but I'd be glad to have any meat at this point. I've gotten enough food to survive, and still some amounts of water from sponsors, so I'm at least grateful for that.

I carefully manipulate the wire so it forms a fresh, if somewhat shorter, trap. I've got the hang of making these. I just needed the blueprint from Tina.

Wonder how she's doing. I haven't noticed any cannons lately, so she's still alive somewhere. I wonder if she's any more sane. Probably not. It's not like she has a therapist. Or anyone.

Not that I'm going to feel guilty about that. I'm not. I'm in the Hunger Games, and I'm the only one I'm responsible for. I didn't know Tina before I came here, and I'm not able to trust her. I'm not going to look after her at the cost of my well-being, and I'm not going to feel guilty about it.

Not very guilty.

I occupy myself with skinning the rabbit. It's no fun, and slimy clumps of fur end up all over the place, but I'm easily able to keep going at the thought of a meal. Just in time for lunch, too.

Once I have the meat all ready and on a spit, I run around a little to make sure no one's near, and then I get the fire started. Just a small one; I can barely take the normal heat, let alone extra from flames. It would be a lot more convenient to cook things at night, when it's not so horribly hot, but the light would give me away in a second. Just can't win in this place.

Heh. Just can't win. That about sums it up. You do something kind, you usually die; you do something rational but inhumane, you can't live with yourself. I'm not immune. Just leaving someone behind, not even doing any harm, and I'm beating myself up about it.

Ah, well. I just have to push it aside and keep surviving. If all goes right, maybe I can get out. Or, if all goes right, I won't. Depends on how you look at it.

But I'll be optimistic. Even if I'm something horrible by the time I get out, I'll still be alive. And if I'm still alive, there's hope. If I die, it's all over.

So. Let's be alive. And hope my conscience doesn't mind.

**Journs Sykop, District 4**

The Careers are eating lunch in a wobbly oval. Magya, Osso, Sheen, and Feli are sort of in a group, while Ilber, Ax, and I form the other semicircle. Ax is still acting a bit dejected after Ilber told her she was supposed to wake us up last night to run off. I guess we're going to try again tonight, since Ilber told me to volunteer for watch.

In the meantime, we're just trying to seem like we're not that separate from the rest of the group. Except for the usual amount of Osso-bashing, but we've all come to expect that by now. It's not as if it's particularly treasonous, anyway. Osso's not the least bit suspicious, as far as any of us can tell. Great for us.

"Ah—"

I glance up at Sheen, who somehow managed to drop his second piece of jerky. Squinting either out of misty-headedness or a plain headache, he sends his hand to wander about the sand until it finally locates what it let go.

Osso watches this, gaze slightly narrowed.

"You still haven't been sleeping well?" he starts, only the barest of accusations in his voice.

"Eh?" Sheen turns to Osso but takes a second to process the question. "I guess not..."

"Make an effort to." Osso pauses to take a bite of his food. "You're making yourself weak. It won't help anyone."

"Eh... Yeah..." He visibly stifles a yawn as he sweeps some sand off his food.

Frick. I'm not the most coherent after I've lost a good night's sleep, but there's just something wrong with him. I don't think he's had those huge bags under his eyes this whole time...

"What, you _don't_ want him weak?" Ilber responds. "I thought you wanted to make sure everyone was weaker than you so you could keep your authority. Man, weaker than you. That's pretty hard to do, isn't it?"

Osso doesn't blink. "You tell me."

Ilber's eyelid twitches. "You and I both know that whole getting-beat thing was just an act."

"Oh, I wouldn't think so. You're much too high on your horse to go down for no good reason. And seeing as you haven't quite proven yourself to be an excellent strategist, I doubt you would have had a reason."

"Yeah, and your strategy doesn't have any weak spots," I put in.

"Excuse me?"

I shrug, biting into my fish. "How many people have we killed recently? I mean, really. I'm getting bored."

"There _are _still a bunch of people out there," Sheen mumbles, looking up as if to count the faces that have been in the sky.

"Six," Osso responds, narrowing his eyes at Sheen. "If you're going to join in on the discussion of my apparent ineptitude, you should at least get your facts straight."

" 'Scuse _me_," Sheen mutters back, turning back to the gritty remainder of his meal.

"Oh, don't mind him," Ax tells Sheen. "He acts this stuck-up to everyone." She glances back at Osso.

"Exactly what do you mean by 'stuck-up'?" he responds, keeping his tone even as always.

"Go ahead and explain, Ax," Ilber says, crossing his legs and leaning back against a cool part of the Cornucopia. "You should know widdle Ossy isn't smart enough to understand such advanced vocabulary."

"I hope you're not attempting to incense me," Osso sighs, closing his eyes. "With all of the insults you have to throw to feel better about your loss, you should know I don't fall for that."

"Ooh, 'in_cense_'. So now you're trying to use pretty words to redeem yourself," Ilber snorts.

"It'll take more than that!" I respond cheerfully.

"It'll take a lot more than that," Ax says, smirking. "Say, Osso, whatever happened to that nice-looking pot of stew we got sent at 'an inopportune time to eat'?"

...She remembers that, but she doesn't remember the whole breaking-away-into-our-own-pack thing? Huh. Priorities, I guess.

"Stew?" Sheen echoes, squinting at Osso.

Ilber pauses. "Come to think of it, I don't remember you eating breakfast this morning. Hoarding more of the good stuff for yourself, you stinking aristocrat?"

Osso opens his mouth to reply, but Sheen talks first.

"We had good food sent, and you didn't tell us? Feli could use a real meal—!"

"Yes, and you could use a nap," Osso counters. "Now, if we're quite done—"

"Oh, I don't think we are," Ilber says, sitting up. "Hate to bring it up again, but you're just not a very good—scratch that—a really freaking useless and idiotic Career. So," he continues, getting to his feet without pausing in speech, "I think I'll give you one more chance to do what's _really _best for this group. Make me leader."

Osso doesn't flinch. "I don't believe choosing a weaker person for a leader would do us good."

"You freaking... pampered... idiot." Ilber crosses his arms, glaring down at Osso. For a second I think the plan is over, and Ilber is just going to kill the One right now. But nothing happens except the Seven declaring Osso's not worth his time and sitting back down.

Sensing the danger is over, Magya finally feels it's time to enter the debate. "What is up with you, acting like you own the place? You'll use any excuse to harass Osso." she says, looking at Ilber first but making sure we know she's addressing all of us. "Please, there are still more tributes than us out there, and we can't afford to break ourselves up now." She sighs, shaking her head. "I just hope we don't start killing each other," she finishes, talking to herself more than us. In response, Feli whimpers.

So Sheen hurries to make sure she's all right, and Ilber gives the glare-down of the century to Magya, who pays him no mind. Same as always.

But everything will change tonight.


	36. Run

Recommended Listening: The Grand Illusion by Styx

* * *

><p><strong>Ilber Schmidt, District 7<strong>

It's time to get rolling. The Idiot Crew is out like a light, the girls have some of our other stuff, and I've got the food. It's heavy—not too heavy for me, obviously—so we'll have it made. Just one last thing to get.

Telling the girls to go on ahead—we already decided which direction we would go, so I'll catch up—I wait a second and grab Sheen's shoulder, hauling him halfway to his feet before he even opens his eyes.

"Come on, Sheen, we're leaving," I say as he staggers to his feet. He responds with some garbled questioning sound.

"Leaving the idiots behind, remember? I've got the food. Hurry."

He's so asleep he follows me into the trees before asking about Feli.

"Journs has her," I reply, picking up the pace. "Come on!"

Finally waking up a little, he speeds up, and we're soon hurrying after the path the girls left us.

It's pretty hard to see out here. We didn't get any of those handy night-vision goggles or even electric torches this time around, and we're running too fast through too thick a jungle to try anything on fire. But it's fine. I of all people can run a little bit without having to see everything in front of me.

Sheen eventually wakes up enough I can quit guiding him, and he even attempts to pass me. It doesn't work very well, since he's way too out of it from staying up creeping on his girlfriend all of the time. Man. He'd better rest up, or he won't be very useful to me, either.

We keep up the pace, and Sheen somehow manages to fall over only twice. I can feel that little clearing nearing, and the frothing river sounds a little closer, too.

Finally, after one last line of trees, we break into the moon-lit clearing. There's just enough space for all of us to stand without being poked by branches. It's not that nice, but we already found it, and we're close enough to the river.

Ax is already rolling out our sleeping bags, and I end up plopping the food down right in the middle of camp.

"...Where's Feli?" Sheen suddenly asks.

"Eh?" Journs, sensing him staring at her, looks up at him confused and empty-handed. "How am I supposed to know?"

Sheen growls, halfway pouncing on her. "What did you do to her?"

I have just enough time to step back from the two, though Journs doesn't quite get enough time to speak.

"And you like slow deaths, too, don't you? I swear, if she's just bleeding out somewhere...!" Halfway incoherent by now, he grabs the front of her shirt. "Where is she? _Where is she?_"

"At the Cornucopia?" Journs responds, still a little bewildered. Sheen lets go of her slowly as I take another few steps back.

"Of course," she continues with a grin, "if you'd like to go ahead and have a battle to the death now...!"

"At the..." Sheen trails off. A few soundless seconds pass before he turns on me. "_You—!_"

I keep my sword handy, though I'm leaning against a tree.

"Just hear me out a second, will you?" I start coolly.

"Hear you out? _Hear you out_? You-you _abducted _me, and Feli's all by herself with _Careers_, and—and what in the name of Panem am I doing still hanging around here?"

He slashes out at me in anger, though he doesn't come close to injuring me, before spinning and marching off madly through the trees.

"Wrong way," I offer, crossing my arms.

Sheen growls but realises I've had a better grip on where we've been going. He turns around without acknowledging me and storms off again.

"So, Ilber," Journs starts slowly.

"Yeah?"

"Why exactly was he targeting me?"

I scoff. "I don't know how that idiot works. I guess he just thought you were the most likely to hurt her."

Journs ponders this a moment. "Makes sense."

Ax, who hasn't quite gotten the chance to get to sleep though she's long since entered her sleeping bag, sits up. "So, I guess he's not in our alliance anymore?"

"Guess not." I shrug. "Well, it's his decision." With a grin at the girls, I head to my own sleeping bag.

"Not my fault if he wants to get killed earlier."

**Ise Javik, District 9**

Tonight has not been pleasant for us. It's apparently much hotter than usual, since neither of us can fall asleep, and we've gone through the canteens we filled just before sunset.

That, and someone else came by us.

I'm sure it was the Careers. I wasn't sure how many there were, and they were even in two different groups, but there aren't going to be alliances that big at this point unless they're Careers. They were awfully loud for Careers, though.

Luckily, it apparently wasn't quite loud enough. I think Mr. Puffin's been asleep, since he didn't make any attempt to squawk when they came by. Norge and I are still undetected. Somehow.

So we've been here, waiting in case the group comes back this way. But it's been a while, and we're both desperately thirsty. We don't know for sure the river's going to be there the whole Games, either.

So, we finally decide to go ahead and get over there.

The tree branches creak as we make our way down, but they're still plenty sturdy enough not to snap. I confirm that Mr. Puffin is in fact asleep before I hop off onto the ground. Norge hands the axe down—it's almost too heavy for me, but I'm pretty sure I can take it for a few seconds—and jumps himself. He takes his weapon back wordlessly, and we start for the river.

He's been leading the way on these trips. It's fine by me, since he has the axe. If I'm the one attacked, I'm done for. Useless as always. But I guess he's not even dreaming of kicking me out now that he knows we're half-siblings.

About that... I just... I don't know. It's the truth, whatever. Just because he keeps calling me "little bro" doesn't mean I have to do anything similar. And... Well, I'm going home, so I'm just fine with having a strong ally for whatever reason. So... there, that's it. That's all I'm willing to let it be. It's not as if my father's a better person if I just ignore his wrongs, but...

Nevermind. Let's just go get some water.

I continue to follow Norge as we slip through patches of trees.

He stops.

We're not quite to the river. I consider asking him if he's all right, but I can somehow tell he is. Something else is wrong.

An animal? We've been running into more since Mr. Puffin came back—apparently he has a pretty good handful of predators after him—but it's too dark, isn't it? It's hard enough just to see outlines of trees; forget anything that can move.

Unless... It's the Careers.

I stay behind Norge, who's still half-crouching, staring ahead. I finally make out the figure two metres or so away from us. He's definitely a Career.

But he's on his own. Maybe he had to go get water. Although he's just walking alongside the river rather than getting anything from it. I swear I don't hear anyone else, though—

His gaze flicks towards us.

Norge lunges.

I hang back for a second, but it's obvious Norge somehow has the upper hand. The Career hasn't even drawn his sword before there's an axe in his stomach.

Cold adrenaline proof of my fear, I go ahead and step towards the scene. The Career's on the ground. But Norge is still hacking away.

"A-all right, that's enough!" I seize my ally's shoulder. He stops to look up at me, though the fear for the both of us has given his eyes an alarming glazed look.

"We're not going to win if we don't kill anyone," he pants.

"Yeah." I look down at the Career, whose lower torso has been horribly gouged. "But we don't have to rip them to pieces!"

Norge looks down at his prey, his arms trembling as they keep the axe lifted.

"He's dangerous... He's dangerous..."

"It's okay," I respond, not wanting to look him in the eye. "He can't hurt us in that condition." For proof, I kick the Career's shoulder a bit. Norge isn't convinced, so I step over and withdraw the sword.

"See? Can't hurt us. Let's... Let's get our water, all right?"

Norge calms down a little bit, but he's still panting from the exertion and not quite looking at anything. I silently take his canteen and walk upstream a bit, filling our bottles above the spot where the Career's blood has started to drain into the water.


	37. Suffering

Recommended Listening: Help! by The Beatles

* * *

><p><strong>Osso Torya, District 1<strong>

I'm quietly dividing up today's breakfast when the others awaken. Feli sits up in her sleeping bag, utterly confused, while Magya hurries over towards me, knowing something's up.

"Um..." Feli finally starts. "Where is everyone else?"

"Feli, go out and fetch some water," I respond, not turning to face her.

"But—"

"Now!"

Feli zooms out of the sleeping bag, scurries to pick up the empty canteens remaining, and hurries off to the river.

Magya stays by me a moment, scrutinising the meat I've laid out. It's easy to tell it's from fresh game instead of the masses of dried fish we had the last time she was awake.

"What happened, Osso?" she finally says worriedly, trying to meet my gaze if I would let her.

I finish what I'm doing silently before turning to face her.

"The answer is simple. I have been abandoned."

Magya looks at the ground before scooting so our shoulders touch. It's the closest to comforting I think she's going to get in this situation.

And I think she knows it, too.

**Sheen Sehre, District 2**

I think this is it. I've been holding on for... feels like days... but judging from the rise of the sun, a few hours. But I don't think I can keep this up. My abdomen's all but gone—or it feels that way... I can't crane my neck to see—and I just can't...

I definitely can't move. I have been. For a minute. I couldn't get to my feet, but I managed to sort of drag myself. I didn't progress a metre.

So I just have to stay here... staring at the horizon... wondering...

I never thought it would end like this. I'm a Career. We're not supposed to die at the hand of a normal tribute.

Feli... What's going to happen to you...? Osso's nice, but he's not... not going to protect you... Not like I would... I don't even know if he'll keep you alive after this. I'm the only reason he would have picked you up in the first place. With me gone... there's no reason...

So this is it... I just bleed out... leave Feli to die... because I didn't know what was going on... because I was too far gone... because I couldn't find her fast enough...

This w-wasn't... supposed to happen...

Drawing in a jagged breath, I look down across the shore, as I've been since I collapsed. But it's a little different. Someone's coming.

Feli?

...So I've lost enough blood to hallucinate. Took long enough. I don't even know how I could still have blood left at this point...

The image of Feli hovers by the water, kneeling down before catching the yellowed traces of blood sweeping past. She starts to come upstream, trembling as she hopes whatever is polluting the river isn't going to hurt her.

It's okay... Nothing's here. The other tributes left a long while back. The sun wasn't up yet then. They won't come. Just stay happy. I... want my last thought of you to be happy...

She continues up the bank a little bit before feeling something and looking up. She sees me. With a startled cry, she drops the canteens and comes running towards me.

"Sheen!" The mirage is a total hallucination now. She stumbles just in front of me but picks herself up. She tries to tell me something but is crying too hard to get it out. Clasping her hands around my wrists, she brings my arm up and tries to drag me. I'm far too heavy for her. I don't budge a centimetre.

...Could a mirage... move me? I can feel her hands... Feli... Is this... real?

Feli drops my arm, quavering too hard to keep her grip.

Feli... No... It'll be too hard for you already... You shouldn't have to see... me like this...

She collapses sobbing, almost falling right on top of me.

"Shee... ee..." She can't finish my name. She just stays there, weeping and helpless.

I still can't move. I still can't say anything. I can't do anything to help her. I can barely breathe... Is the light... getting dimmer...?

Feli pulls herself together just long enough to touch her lips to mine. I can barely feel it.

It's not... going to work, Feli... I'm sorry... This isn't a fairy tale... I wish it was...

She collapses again, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and gasping heavily for breath right by my ear. And Feli, of all people, doesn't notice at all my blood seeping into her clothing.

"D-don't... d-d..." I wonder if she can breathe any better than I can right now. "D-don't... pl-lease... D-don't l-leave m-me..."

With a choking sound, she goes back to sobbing over me.

Feli... I'm so sorry... You shouldn't have to... I should be able... to protect you from things like this... I want to... I'd be fine with dying... if it only meant... you didn't have to get hurt, too...

I love you, Feli... I just... wish I didn't have to die...

...for you to...

...love me...

...ba...

...ck...

...

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

It's taking Feli an awfully long time to get our water. Is she all right?

As if in reply, a cannon sounds.

I freeze, but Osso nudges my shoulder.

"I don't believe that was her."

I exhale, nodding although I don't know why I agree. Osso just seems to know things we others don't sometimes. I'll believe him.

But the minutes drag on, and there's no sign of Feli. I'm just about to go check on her when something comes crashing through the bushes.

It's her, stumbling, blood-soaked, barely breathing through the exertion and her crying.

"Feli!" I hurry over, catching her before she collapses. I can tell immediately the blood isn't from her. She's barely strong enough to walk back without injury. "What's wrong? Feli?"

She just latches onto me sobbing. Understandably, she can't even attempt to talk for the longest time.

"Feli? What happened?" I ask softer, wrapping an arm around her.

"Sh... Sh..." She can't get any further.

"She?" I ponder aloud.

"Sheen," Osso answers so quietly I can barely hear him.

"Feli? Feli. It's okay. Calm down. Feli?" She won't respond. She just keeps bawling her eyes out, somehow getting louder despite getting no air in. "Feli, it's okay...!" Still no better.

With shaking hands, I rub the back of her neck a little. I then withdraw a knife and sever her spinal cord.

The cannon booms as immediately as she stops crying. She drops to the sand, staring up in lifeless agony.

She... hurt so much... She never should have survived this long... I should have killed her the second I saw her... THis is what happens in this place! THings don't get better! I don't know why I would believe that it would! I know it doesn't! That's why I came here! So I can kill them before it gets this much worse!

And what have I been doing? Sitting around, chatting with Osso? That's not why I came! I'm here to help people! I'm here to stop this! And I've done nothing!

I storm towards the jungle.

"Magya?"

"I'm going hunting!" I shout, crashing through the undergrowth. I am going hunting, and I'm not coming back until everyone else is dead.


	38. Up a Notch

Recommended Listening: Money For Nothing by Dire Straits

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><p><strong>Norge Oslo, District 8<strong>

I keep watching the banks as Ise refills our canteens for the second time this morning. Nobody else is here. Not just yet. I don't see anyone in the trees, and I would definitely be able to tell if someone were over on the sand. I don't think anyone's in the river. I check the trees again. Not yet.

"Norge?" I jump at my name and quickly check on my brother. He's just looking up at me, filled canteens in his arms.

"Are you feeling all right?" he continues carefully.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Something moves across the edge of my vision. I twist towards it, axe ready, but it's just Mr. Puffin shaking his wings off.

"Are you sure?" Ise asks quietly, getting to his feet.

"Yes, I'm fine," I repeat. "Let's go."

Ise starts to lead the way, but I cut in front of him. I know the way just as well, and if anything runs into us, I'm still better to fend it off. Ise kept the sword, but he doesn't know how to use it. I know how to use the axe, obviously, since I killed a person, so I should be in the lead.

We get back to our tree easily enough, and I climb up the branches first. Ise follows, and we get to our usual altitude without comment. I stay seated, clenching the axe handle.

"...Are you _sure _you're feeling all right?"

"I am perfectly fine! How many times are you going to ask me?" I catch myself getting too loud and glare down through the boughs in case anyone heard.

"Sorry. You're just acting a little... off." He shifts. "You're not thinking about the tribute you killed, are you?"

"No! Why would I be thinking about him? I'm not thinking about him. I'm perfectly fine. Why do you keep asking me? I said I'm fine!"

My brother leans back against another branch.

"I think," he starts, "you should get some sleep. You didn't get any last night, right?"

"I don't need sleep. I need to be awake. I need to be awake if someone else comes. I have to be able to fight back. We can't be caught unaware. I have to be awake."

Ise tilts his sword so it catches the light. "Norge... Listen, I know you're..." He clears his throat. "...my... big brother and everything, but that doesn't mean I can't fend for myself. We wouldn't be allies in the first place if I couldn't, right?"

I shift uncomfortably. "But I'm stronger. I should be awake. I have to make sure nothings happens. Nothing's going to happen. I have to be awake. I'm perfectly fine."

"Norge. Go to sleep."

"I need—"

"Sleep. You need sleep."

I shuffle, still gripping the axe with whitened knuckles. "I can't sleep. It's dangerous. I need to make sure we're protected. I'm protecting us."

Ise sighs frustratedly. "Fine. Just... You can talk to me if you need to talk to someone, all right?"

"I don't need to talk to anyone. I'm fine."

My brother shakes his head and looks out at the trees.

**Plutonia Agnelli, District 10**

Things seem to have calmed down by noon. No more cannons have fired since those early this morning. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. It's bad that more people are dead, but it's good that the Capitol might be satisfied enough not to send anything after Shiran and me. But whatever it was stopped, so either the killer's paused his or her rampage, or just nothing's going on, and the audience is going to get bored again.

One good thing for sure is that we have some food. Donated. It's not much, but it's enough for lunch and supper today.

So, if our mentors sent us food, it means Shiran's not in trouble, right? I mean, I know the guys from 10 and 5 don't always send the most helpful things, but if it was serious, they'd send an antidote, right?

Unless they just don't have enough funds for that... But they would save up! I mean, unless they already have been... And no one's going to be sponsoring a couple of useless young tributes, anyway...

I look over at Shiran's hands. They're properly broken out today. Shiran assured me that that's just proof it's a normal rash thing. But he hasn't been scratching them as much... Or maybe he's just doing that so I'm not so worried...

Oh, I give up! Everything's going to go wrong at some point, anyway, so... So it's all pointless. Or something.

I moan, looking up at the bright sky.

"Oh, stop that!"

Shiran splashes me, but this time it's the salt water he's standing in.

"I won't stop this," I respond, pouting. "Someone has to be on her toes, and you're so carefree I... have to make up for it or something."

"No, you don't!" he insists, wading towards me.

"Yes, I do!" I cross my arms forcefully. "We're in the Hunger Games, and really bad things happen to people who don't worry enough, and—and... What's wrong with you?" I continue desperately. "You're just acting like everything's fun and games, and-and we're probably going to die, and..."

I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute and moan.

When I open them back up, Shiran's directly in front of me, a metre away. He folds his arms and studies me for a second.

"You want to know the truth?" he finally starts.

"Um..." I wrap my arms around my knees before hesitantly nodding.

"Of course it's not fun and games. Everyone's out to kill us, we can't defend ourselves no matter how hard we try, we can't keep hiding forever, we don't have many sponsors, we don't have any other way to get food, we're going to be starving soon, and that's only if whatever's starting to make my palms numb doesn't kill me first, and if my brother of all people can't make it out of here, how in the world could I? Of course I'm scared out of my mind." He smiles faintly, eyes dampened. "I... know I'm going to die, okay?"

Aptly silenced, I just look at him for a second before jumping up and hugging him.

"I-I'm sorry!" I wail. "I shouldn't keep reminding you of that! I just... I just..."

Shiran, who's been standing motionless for a minute, allows a moment of silence before he starts chuckling.

"Wh-what?" I pull back, and he grins at me, leaning forwards.

"You don't like serious me, do ya? Admit it."

"Eh?" I blink.

"Admit it, admit it, admit it!" he commands, poking me in the stomach every time he says it.

"Okay! I don't like serious you!" I laugh, putting an arm over my ticklish abdomen protectively.

"I thought so," he responds, sticking out his tongue.

**Livna Wickham, District 1**

"Come on, let's go again." Ilber steps back, rubbing a shoulder. I exhale, getting back into position.

So Ilber decided to train to beat Osso. Apparently I get to play the part of Osso, even though I'm not... _quite_... as tall as him, and I have no idea what crazy magic he pulled to nail Ilber to the ground like that. Journs is sitting to the side, watching us to make sure I'm at least doing a decent job of Osso—which I'm not—and telling us what she thinks I get off.

We've been going at this for, like, an hour, and we haven't made much progress. Ilber has the upper hand on me no matter how hard I try, so it's not like he's trying to defeat me. I didn't see at all what Osso did that time, so I don't know what I'm trying to do. To throw him down somehow. That's about all I got. But his centre of gravity is so far above or away or something that I'm having serious difficulty even getting him off-balance. Urgh.

And of course Journs can't do it. First of all, she'd probably get carried away and actually try to kill him. Secondly, she's too busy being the only one who saw what Osso did but mysteriously unable to reproduce it herself.

Whatever. If one of us can definitely take Osso, we'll have a much better chance when our packs collide. There are still as many of them as there are us at this point—unless those cannons were any of them—if we don't count Feli. Which we shouldn't, since she's cute but useless.

Ilber comes at me again. I swing my leg out and pivot, but he easily dodges and pushes me to the ground.

"That wasn't quite right, either," Journs calls. "You're lifting your foot about π/6 too much."

"Journs, you're going to have to talk in English if you want me to respond." I push myself off the ground, sweeping dirt off me.

"Uh... I meant thirty degrees."

"Okay, sure."


	39. Prior Planning

Author's Note: SO MANY REVIEEEEEEEEEEEWS

I even think we're going to get to 300! *flails* Thanks so much, guys.

Recommended Listening: Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran

* * *

><p><strong>Tina Sinki, District 9<strong>

I'm getting kind of hungry. I don't know where my snares went, and I don't recognise any of these plants.

And then Sui's gone. She's been missing for a while, and I haven't seen her face in the sky. And she told me "sorry", so I can only guess she must have left.

There were more cannons earlier, but hopefully she's all right. I'm not doing so well by myself. I haven't gotten any parachutes lately. I still don't have any way to defend myself, since the cleaver's gone.

I wish Den were back. I still don't know what happened, but he was an all right guy, but now he's dead, and he can't protect me, and he can't feed me, and he's not going to help Sui either, and I kind of miss Sui, and I wonder if she's going to be coming back any time soon. I'm hungry, and I thought she was going out to hunt, but she's still not back, and I wonder where she is.

Oh, whoops. The jungle moved again. This is getting confusing. I wonder if Sui's any closer now?

Really wishing I had some water, I wander through a few more trees before I think I hear something. Is it Sui, finally? I feel like I've been waiting for her for forever.

I turn towards the faded sound, but I can't see anything.

Huh. Maybe it was just me. Am I starting to hear things now? Whew, I really need some water...

I investigate another tree to make sure it doesn't have any of my snares. Something behind me snaps.

I spin around, and there's finally someone there. I don't recognise her. She looks angry. And she has a knife.

Bursting out in giggles as I for some reason find this very funny, I turn back around and start running. I only get through a few bushes before stumbling.

And then that knife's in my neck, and the jungle fades away for the last time.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

It's so hot I have to take a break. I prop myself against a tree and wipe some sweat off my forehead. I need water, but I didn't think to bring any with me. I wasn't really thinking at all at the moment. Just... Feli... She was just so hurt, and I couldn't stand knowing I had let that happen to her. The whole purpose of me coming to the Games is to not let these things happen, so...

Just the l-look on her face...

Calm down. It's all right now. She won't be in pain anymore. Nor will any of the others. I... I'm going to finish this. I'm going to make sure I'm the only one who has to try to struggle on after experiencing the 48th Hunger Games.

But I have to admit this isn't the best way of doing it. I think I'm about to faint; I have no food, water, or supplies; and I don't even know where I am. I'm not going to survive this way. I'm glad I ran off in the first place, since I at least ended one more tribute's suffering, but I can't go on like this.

Let's find my way back to the Cornucopia, at least. I'm sure I left a decent trail of carnage in my storming off, so I should be all right once I find that.

If I get that far. It is... really hot out here...

I find myself starting to collapse and shake myself out of it.

Not that hot. I can at least get back to camp.

I push myself off the tree, but I'm too wobbly to get more than a step away.

Okay. Maybe... Maybe I should rest first. I've done a lot of stamping around in the heat without any food or drink. And it should be cooler in a little while. I have to take some sort of care of myself, or I won't be able to get to all of the other tributes.

I slide down and sit, keeping a knife ready but otherwise relaxing.

**Ilber Schmidt, District 7**

"Yup, I think we're good for the day," I say, stretching as the sun starts to vanish. "I can take anything Osso can throw at me."

"Or at least anything Ax can throw at you," Journs throws in with a shrug.

Ax, veritably exhausted, doesn't say anything but keeps munching on her remaining piece of jerky.

"Yeah, but it's _Osso_. I don't think he could do any better. I don't even know how he got me down in the first place." I take a swig of water.

The anthem starts playing, and the three of us end up looking to the sky.

The first face is Sheen's.

I think we all raise our eyebrows a little. Not that he was that strong anymore, but it still seems early for him to go out.

So I guess Sheen's not going to be helping out the other Careers anymore. And—

And Feli's not going to be helping out, either. Not that she was in the first place. Maybe she did something stupid, Osso killed her, and then Sheen attacked. Except Osso wouldn't win that fight. I guess Magya must have helped him. And they got lucky.

Man. It's just down to those two? I could take them both myself without breaking a sweat.

The last face is some cheerful chick I don't remember, and then the seal of Panem is back.

"What do you think happened?" Journs starts, still watching the sky gone blank.

"Peh. I don't know."

Journs glances at Ax, but she's already asleep.

"That was fast," she comments, leaning to get her canteen.

"Yup. Couldn't even wait for her sleeping bag." I shrug. "Of course, she's been facing off against _me_ all day, so it's a natural reaction."

"Guess so." She takes a drink, and we don't say anything else for a minute.

"Well," I start, getting to my feet, "looks like we won't be going hunting while she's in dreamland. In the meantime, I'll go ahead and take first watch."

Journs puts her canteen up and gets out her sleeping bag. "Great, thanks."

"No problem." I lean back against one of the trees as she shuffles into her bag and closes her eyes.

It feels like the night's back to normal. It was crazy hot last night, but it's definitely cooler now. Good, since I'm warm enough with just the tank top on, and Journs will nag me if I try to go shirtless on her.

Honestly, both of the girls are annoying. Ax will admit how sexy I am but still isn't interested. Oh, well. It's not like I won't kill her eventually. It's better to not have her interested back, anyway, in case I decide to be an idiot and feel guilty about killing my girlfriend or something. Which I wouldn't do, anyway, but still.

I shift position as my back starts hurting a little. Journs has started snoring lightly, and Ax doesn't show any signs of being alive other than not making a cannon fire.

Hm. So just us, some wimps from wimpy districts, and Osso and Magya. It'll be easy for me to win now.

I stand up and pace slowly. The girls don't respond, and no one else is around still. I circle the empty section of our clearing, thinking for a minute.

Silently, I take out my sword and send it through Journs's neck.

She wakes up writhing just as I do the same to Ax. They don't stand a chance. They never did.

Their cannons fire in near unison.

With a grin, I clean off my sword in the grass. That went even easier than I thought it would when I first asked them to run off with me.

So there! I killed half of the rest of the Careers, and it's obvious I'll get the other two easily. Let's see how many sponsors _that_ gets me!


	40. Clash of Rivals

Recommended Listening: Hold the Line by Toto

* * *

><p><strong>Osso Torya, District 1<strong>

Judging from the masses of cannons, I'd say Magya's on one magnificent killing spree. The first was Tina, but I'll have to wait until the death toll tonight to see the other two.

I wonder if she's still at it. It's been a good twenty-four hours since she left. She wasn't quite as calm as usual, but I'm sure she has the sense to come back. And to not be one of those cannons. She's probably just resting up a bit.

I finish off my breakfast. It was donated, by my family, most likely. It's not much, and I'm still hungry, but I'll just have to deal with it. If I can't survive a bit of peckishness, I certainly don't deserve to win the Hunger Games. I can always catch something later.

Checking the perimeter once again, I lean against one of the starting plates and sigh. It's not the best idea to go on a hunt by myself, even if there are no supplies to leave unguarded. I'd like to not be outnumbered. Such a thing isn't always possible with an alliance of two, but that's a better idea than going off alone.

So, I'll just sit here and wait. There isn't much to amuse me, so I take to tracing a few lazy lines in the sand.

That's when something charges me from behind.

I topple over, withdrawing my sword and spinning around as I try to blink the sand out of my eyes.

"What a sad excuse for a Career! Sitting on your butt all day instead of doing anything!"

Well, that's obviously Ilber...

I wipe the last bit of sand out of my eyes and get to my feet as the Seven launches himself back at me. I'm not stable enough to block, so I dodge, but he still scores a cut across my shoulder blade. Getting my feet straight, I spin, swinging my sword around. Ilber blocks with the side of his blade. I'm able to recover before him, and my blade dives into his stomach. He buckles in but still manages to bring his sword around before I'm mobile. I just bring my arm down to block before he can get his weapon between my ribs.

I wrench my sword back out of him with a twist. He draws back with a sharp sound of pain, and I'm able to take another swing before he quite recovers. He dodges to some extent, so I don't hack him open quite as much as I had intended. He retaliates, aiming for my right side again since that arm is injured. I dodge and swing. He proceeds to do the same, and he's more successful. My shirt rips as the blade slices across my chest.

I have to withdraw a bit, though he obviously didn't do as much damage as he intended, and Ilber proceeds to slam his sword into my right triceps. In reflex, I drop my sword.

I immediately charge Ilber to keep him away from it, but it's too late—he takes my sword in his other hand.

He topples backwards from the impact I made, but he rolls over just as I try to pin him down. Getting back to his feet, he switches my sword to his dominant hand tauntingly. I make a grab for the other weapon, but he gets it above my immediate reach and brings it back down before I can dodge.

Swearing at the slice in my back, I spin away. He makes a swipe with my sword, but I dodge easily enough, responding with a punch to the side of his head. He staggers back, but his grip doesn't loosen. Stepping back into the fight, he makes a cross-swipe at me with both swords, but I dodge it and throw another punch. Before it can connect, Ilber flings his sword behind him, grabs my wrist, and wrenches my arm around hard.

Something snaps.

My knees decide to buckle from the pain, but I make a grab at my sword handle before I quite fall. Ilber just laughs and kicks me off.

I fall square on my back and struggle to get back up, unable to put any weight on my right arm. Thankfully, Ilber seems to be distracted by a second surge of pain from his stomach wound, and I'm back on my feet before he can strike again. I grunt, loosing a kick that I pull short at the last moment. Ilber falls for it, and I get in a punch from my left hand. He's knocked the slightest bit off-balance, but I'm too busy shaking out my hand to deliver any more damage. I am not a fist-fighter. I am a swordsman. My knuckles are not used to this.

I try to get around him to go for his sword, but he grabs me by the shirt and pulls me back. I make an effort to kick, but he tugs on my injured arm, and the pain paralyses me.

Ilber puts my blade up against the side of my neck.

"Is that really the best you can do?" he sniggers, still panting. "Who knew you were such a wuss?"

I try to make myself pull away, but my nerves are too busy being assaulted with pain signals.

Ilber suddenly shouts, letting me go.

Off-balance, I stumble back. I'm able to regain my bearings just in time to see the second knife go flying by.

Ilber dodges and stumbles, still gaping at the knife wound that barely missed his throat, as Magya crashes through the last of the trees yelling.

"Get away from him!"

She gets a more more steps through the sand before throwing her next missile. Ilber manages to block with my sword. By the time the knife hits the ground, Magya's right in front of Ilber and hissing like a wet cat. Ilber swipes with his sword, but she dodges, swinging a knife right at his neck.

He takes a few quick steps backwards to avoid it and bumps into the Cornucopia. Magya stays right on him. Ilber takes another swing at her, but she gets out of the way in time and slices at his neck. He dodges, but a thin cut still goes across his throat.

He backs up.

"Whatever, I guess I'll let you go this time," he says, voice a bit higher-pitched than usual. He runs, ducking to grab up his sword just as Magya throws another knife. He escapes into the forest before she can ready another projectile.

Magya stands still for a second, staring after him and muttering about him getting away, before she seems to remember I'm here. She turns around and, seeing me half-collapsed on the ground and bleeding, rushes over.

"Are you okay?" she pants, pulling up to me with the knife still in her hand.

"I'm fine," I choke out, putting my hand over my neck just in case. "I'm okay. I'm not going to die."

"O-okay." She kneels down, putting up her knife and starting to inspect me for all of the wounds.

"Chest, right arm, back," I gasp, finally starting to recover my breath. "That should be all of it."

Magya of course decides to check my arm first. I yelp and hop back the second she grasps it.

"Let's... worry about the others first," I tell her.

"Right," she says quietly, turning her attention to the score across my front. She starts to carefully pick away the threads surrounding it before exhaling shakily.

"I'm sorry," she mutters without looking me in the eye. "I shouldn't have run off like that and left you here all by yourself." She clenches some of my shirt, her hands shaking. "I just can't do anything right here..."

"Saving my life doesn't count?"

She smiles, shaking her head. "Well, it wouldn't have been at risk if I hadn't left you here."

We leave it at that for now, and I help her remove my shirt from the front as a parachute gives us some disinfectant. Magya starts dislodging the back of my shirt from the wound there. By the time all of my wounds are ready for dressing, we've been sent all of the dressings we'll need.

I'm guessing all of those sponsors are only Magya's now. I probably just cost myself the rest of mine. No one's going to sponsor an aristocrat who got so soundly beaten by a non-Career he can't even move his dominant arm. I'll just have to hope that the damage I caused will drag Ilber down substaintailly.

But he's not my only enemy. How am I going to fight anyone now? Magya could give me a knife, and protect me while we're still allies, but...

I... think I've just been doomed to lose.


	41. Guilty

Author's Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here's my gift to you, haha~ Thanks for reading!

Recommended Listening: I'm All Right by Kenny Loggins

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><p><strong>Sui Holmes, District 11<strong>

So Tina died yesterday. I don't know if another tribute got to her, or if she just went and ate something poisonous or something. If it was the latter, I'm just about as responsible as possible for that. If it's the former, I should be glad I left. I could protect her to some extent, but I'm no Career. I don't think I could beat a lot of the other tributes here. And priority number one here is, and always has to be, my own life. That's just how it goes. Allies come second. I can't give too much of myself away, no matter how helpless she was. I just... can't afford to. And that's just how it goes.

I scrape the last few splinters of my makeshift wooden cup and start walking back to the river.

It's a good thing I finally found a source of water. Donations have thinned out lately. I didn't get anything at all yesterday, or today. Maybe my mentor was telling me water was nearby. Or maybe prices are just too high to keep me well-hydrated like that.

Or maybe Tina's death was so heartbreaking the watchers hate me for leaving her to it...

No, no, that wouldn't happen. They'd just be happy to watch another death. Well, the ones with the money would. As for those in District 9... Well, just... There's nothing I can do now, okay? It's done, she's dead, and I have to keep moving. Just keep moving...

**Ise Javik, District 9**

I think Norge is starting to feel better since he finally got some sleep. He's still acting kind of off, but he's at least not quite so... paranoid. He didn't go to sleep willingly, by any means, but he's not glaring down all possible enemy hiding spaces and gripping his axe so hard I think his hands are going to start bleeding.

He still kind of worries me, though. He's jumpier than normal, and he's just not acting right. I guess he did kill a person... over several hours...

I wonder if that Career would have died right then and there if I hadn't stopped Norge. I just... I couldn't stand watching the guy get ripped to pieces, but... it's my fault he had to lay there bleeding for so long... It must have been horrible...

No, what am I thinking? I know it's bad, but bad things happen in the Hunger Games. If i can't stand the thought of killing someone, I'm not going to get out. Funny. I thought I was completely ready. But I never even touched this guy, and I feel guilty about it.

And then Norge... I know he was completely willing to kill. I mean, he _did _actually kill someone. But he's not handling it well. I'm sure he'll get better once he's rested up some more, but... if he doesn't...

No, I'm sure he will. He's a strong person. I wouldn't have allied with him otherwise. And he's so gung-ho about the big-brother-little-brother thing that he'll make sure nothing happens to me. If he can't get over that Career for himself, he can do it for the two of us. The guy has a killer big brother instinct.

I stretch, watching Mr. Puffin pick at some riverside bugs. It seems so weird to be taking a minute to relax, especially since we're somewhere around the final eight by now. But we have our water, we have two weapons, and Norge is still looking out for me. He should take a minute to relax, too. I don't think there's any way I could convince him to, especially since I have no idea how to actually fight with swords, but he still should.

I splash my feet in the water a little, wondering how it could possibly stay so cool when everything else is burning up.

"You sure you don't want to cool off a little?" I ask.

Norge doesn't quite look at me. "I'm fine."

"I know you have to be burning up." I rest a hand on the hilt of the sword lying next to me and check the area for the tributes that aren't there. "Come on. It feels great."

"I'm fine." He doesn't so much as move.

"All right." It was worth a shot.

"Why are you so worried about me?" he grumbles, looking at the trees. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?"

I exhale, looking at the water droplets flying off my feet. "We both know you're not fine. You're overheated, you're sleep-deprived, and you're not acting normal. I'm telling you, you can talk to me about that Career. I know it's screwing you up some. I can't be sure talking about it would help, but it's better than staying silent."

"I. Am. Fine." He growls an exhale and checks the trees again.

Not making any progress. But maybe..."

"You can talk to me." I avert my gaze. "I'm your brother, after all."

"I know you're my brother. I'm protecting you. I'm fine."

No luck. If sacrificing my and my father's pride and hitting at Norge's soft spot isn't going to do it, nothing is.

"All right, all right." I pull my feet out of the water and instantly start to regret it. "Let's get back to our tree." I put on my boots and scoop up Mr. Puffin. Norge is already checking the route back by the time I start following him.

**Ilber Schmidt, District 7**

I stagger back to camp and take a seat.

Ow... That fricking aristocrat... Oh, well. No one could escape a Career unscathed, since the audience wouldn't go for that and all. And I got what I wanted. It's sitting on my lap shining away like the well-crafted sword it is. And I didn't even have to lose mine to get it.

Well, winners are winners, and losers are losers. And Osso's definitely not a winner. And I definitely am. So who cares if I didn't finish the two of them off this time? I'll take care of them later, when I'm after them instead of the sword. Yeah.

Man... My stomach really doesn't want to stop bleeding. Ack... It's okay. I have bandages from the Cornucopia.

Since apparently the sponsors didn't want to send me any before I got all the way back here. What's wrong with you guys? I took down two Careers, beat the living crap out of another one, _and _got a better sword. I know there are masses of you.

Tch. I guess my mentor just knew I'm awesome enough to get back to the supply pile without help. I still don't see the point, since I have sponsors right and left, but I guess he's in charge.

I start to wrap bandage around my midsection, but it stains red immediately. I actually let Osso give me a pretty serious wound. This thing might need stitches.

I poke through the supply pile, but somehow there aren't any stitching tools. None get sent down.

"Hey! Carver-idiot!" I yell at the sky. "Send me some crap for stitches!"

My mentor apparently doesn't hear me. He's probably off getting drunk somewhere. I try to remember the chick Victor's name, but it doesn't come to mind.

Idiots! How can they just sit there with all of my donations and not send me anything? Fine. I'll just use the bandages, then.

By the time I have enough wrapped around me to stay white, I'm getting seriously dizzy.

Hmph. I guess I can take a break. I do deserve it, of course, after today's amazing victory.

Since no one's here to keep watch, I head over to the nearest tree to climb up. I get to the first set of branches before I promptly throw up.

Geh... M-maybe I'm a little too dizzy to go very far up...

I manage to pull myself across enough branches to maintain my weight without losing any more of my stomach's contents.

I... am really dizzy... Urgh.

But it's all right. No injury _Osso _could inflict on _me _is going to be fatal. I'll be fine by tomorrow.

I shift uncomfortably before I lose consciousness.


	42. Won't Leave You Behind

Recommended Listening: I Ran by A Flock of Seagulls

* * *

><p><strong>Plutonia Agnelli, District 10<strong>

The death toll comes and goes. Two faces tonight, the girls from 1 and 4. The seal of Panem flashes back, and the last notes of the anthem linger after the sky goes dark.

"Two more we don't have to fight," Shiran says optimistically. I wonder if he does think that at all, or if he's just acting.

"That's a good thing," I agree quietly, looking out at the shore that's just visible through the tree branches. The waves lap quietly, barely reflecting the moonlight. I can't hear them.

"So, bedtime, then?" Shiran starts, shifting his legs.

"Can't call it that; we don't have beds," I mumble, stretching.

He laughs. "Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I'll go ahead and take first watch."

"Okay, thanks!" Shiran crawls around for a minute before finding the usual spot.

We tried to make some sort of nest there, but it didn't work out very well. It's just uncomfortable no matter what we do to it. At least it's not halfway back-breaking like the first few we tried out. It makes me hurt just thinking about it.

I sigh, keeping my head on a swivel in case others come by. They haven't since that one girl... however many nights ago that was. But we're still not safe. We'll never be safe. Not until we're dead.

Shiran's already asleep. We haven't been doing anything exhausting lately, but the heat alone is enough to make us want to sleep all day. We stay awake by joking and Shiran by swimming, but it's just miserable out here. At least it's not quite so bad at night...

Shiran's all curled up now, mouth open in a little "o". Not smiling. I mean, it would be kind of weird to be smiling while he's asleep, but... I guess that's just the kind of thing I would expect from him, anyway. But no. Just huddled up, eyes closed tight.

I guess this is the real him. He's let his guard down to sleep. Now he's just... another scared kid in the Hunger Games. He can fool anyone when he's awake, but his mask's gone now.

"You're just like your brother, you know that, Shiran?" I murmur, smiling a bit—on the inside at least.

I watch him for a moment longer, as if he were going to reply, before looking back at our surroundings. If I weren't in the middle of the Hunger Games, this would probably be pretty relaxing. The moonlight is soft but gives all the leaves a calm lucency. Add that to the swooshing of the river, and it's almost enough to make me sleepy.

...Wait. We can't hear the river from here.

Pulse quickening, I manoeuvre to the edge of the branches and take a closer look around. Nothing seems to be different. Maybe I'm just imagining it?

No, I definitely hear water rushing.

I squint at the beach for a while before I can finally make it out. It's still far away. We should be able to get out of the way—!

"Shiran!" I hurry back over to his side and shake his shoulder. "Shiran, wake up! We have to move!"

His foot budges, but he doesn't wake.

"Shiran!" I hiss, tugging on him in an attempt to get him to his feet before he's even conscious. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

He finally opens his eyes blearily and starts to wobble to his feet.

"Wha's go'n' on?" he starts, rubbing his eyes.

"Get up!" I help him gain his balance and look over my shoulder.

I took too long getting him up.

The tidal wave is almost here.

Shiran's eyes still haven't woken up, so I have to help him find branches for footholds.

This is taking too long. This is taking too long.

"Come _on_!" I wail, taking the lead and tugging him along behind me. "We're not going to make it if you don't hurry!"

We're not going to make it, anyway. The wave's so close some of the spray has started to hit our tree.

I might be able to make it if I just let go of him and run for it. But I... can't. I would do anything to not die right now, but somehow I just can't... I can't get out of this knowing the only one who's been able to make me smile since I got reaped is dying right behind me. I could have made it for sure if I didn't wake him up, I know. But I could never do that. And it's just too late now.

I'm still pulling Shiran along behind me when the wave hits. The water rips him out of my grasp, slams me down against itself, and holds me down until my last breath bubbles away.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

"No, I believe we're grounded here," Osso says, looking blankly up at the stars. "I could hardly hunt even _with_ my sword."

"Well, if we get your sword back, we'll at least look like we're still in business." I cross my legs and exhale a tight sigh.

That Ilber! It's one thing to fight someone who used to be his leader, and another thing to be a hopeless coward, but he didn't even have a _vague _excuse to take that sword. I'm going to get that thing back...!

"I'm not going to look very formidable either way," Osso counters, motioning pointedly at his sling. "Even if I took this off and got the sword, the other tributes wouldn't be fooled for long. And we're too far into the Games to bet on intimidation winning our battles for us."

"I know, just..." I fidget, knowing I've lost this battle and too enraged at Ilber to think too clearly on the matter, anyway.

"We could at least go out," I start, "and see if any sleepy tribute drops out of a tree again."

Osso sighs, still sitting with his back against the Cornucopia. He seems tired, but he won't go to sleep. Neither of us seems to feel like it, even though it's late. Between infuriation with Ilber and the sense of the Games coming to a close, it's hard to shut our eyes.

He still doesn't agree to my proposition.

"Come on, I'll give you a knife and watch your back. If we score a few more kills, we might be able to get medicine to fix whatever else needs fixing."

"If neither of us knows exactly what needs fixing, how are we going to fix it? They're not going to send a physician down on a parachute."

"I know..." I just want to go out and do my job already. There are still tributes out there suffering, and it drives me crazy. But I can't leave Osso alone here. The last time I did that, well, he almost got killed. Sure, he'll probably die eventually, but I want it to be by my hand so I know he won't suffer.

"I apologise." I turn back to look at Osso, who sighs and continues. "I'm just not feeling right, now that I know I'm not going to get out of here alive."

I sense it's not the time to burst out laughing. "That's a bad thing?" I shake my head. "You don't know the Victors very well. Believe me, it's better not to make it out alive."

He just gazes at me, eyes unreadable as always.

I consider telling him he's not done for, but he really doesn't have much of a chance. Without a weapon to which he's accustomed, and unable to use his dominant arm for anything else, he's probably not going to win his next battle, let alone the Games.

But that's okay. I'm the only one who needs the win. Because if I win, no one else will have to live with these memories, of murder, of despair, of friends and maybe more dying in front of them... I still don't know how much of that I'll have to go through, but I'm not going to take it back. I can't do the same for every year, but I'll make a difference to this one.

I just have to hope the other tributes find us.


	43. Luck

Recommended Listening: Drive by The Cars

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><p><strong>Shiran Kirkland, District 5<strong>

I have not swum in anything like this before. I can't see, the salt burns my eyes anyway, and, of course, the water and debris are actively trying to shove me down against the rocks. I'm kicking as hard as I can, but so much water is spinning me around I can't tell which way is up. My lungs are already straining to use what little air they had before I went under last. I can hold my breath for a really long time, but that's just when I'm staying still. I don't know how long I can—

My head suddenly pierces the water's surface, and I get in a gasp of breath before I'm sucked back under.

That way was up! That way was up!

I power my way back in that direction, and miraculously no subcurrent of water comes to throw me off. I get my head above the waves at last, and I have to make myself not hyperventilate as I thrash about. Sucking down the air greedily, I sputter when a smaller wave splashes into my mouth.

Where am I? The wave's not quite so bad to swim on anymore, but all of this panic swimming is tearing up my muscles, and I don't know how long it'll be before the water tries to pull me under again. I have to get to land.

I can't really see, though. Between salt in my eyes, exhaustion, and little light, I have no idea whether I'm just above land or way out in the middle of the ocean.

I resolve to just keep my head above the water and hope I recover before I wear myself out.

I only go back under one more time before my foot scrapes sand.

With a gasp, I try to orient myself so I'm swimming diagonally instead of just up. A few kicks pass by, and I wonder if I started going the wrong way. But my feet hit sand again, and soon I'm stumbling in slow-motion until I hit the ground stomach-first. A shallow wave washes over me, and I barely find the strength to drag myself out of range of the next one.

I then proceed to vomit seawater for about ten minutes. My arms are too worn to keep me above the mess, so I just lie here coughing and hope one last wave will come to clean me off.

But the water's gone now. I'll have to wash myself, whenever... I get the chance...

Eyelids sinking heavily, I nod off.

**Sui Holmes, District 11**

Well, there goes my shelter.

I'm at least glad I was awake when the wave hit. And that I'm not too close to the shore. I didn't even get my shoes wet, but I can forget about that careful bed I was constructing in my tree. Maybe the Gamemakers thought I was trying to get a little too settled.

But no, the wave wasn't aimed at me. I wasn't hurt. The Gamemakers took out whomever it was they wanted to take out, according to that cannon. I just got caught in the crossfire a little bit.

But I still have my cleaver, the remainder of a bird I cooked yesterday, and myself. And as long as I'm okay, everything is okay. Understand that? Everything is okay.

I move along, leaves I can't see in the darkness crunching under my feet.

**Ise Javik, District 9**

Norge may have stayed up all night, but he dozed off a while after the sun came up. It's probably about seven now, and he's still over there, fidgeting and muttering nonsense.

I've drained the last of this canteen, but I really don't want to wake him up. I didn't wake him up last time, and he didn't get worse, so I don't want to take chances. Although I'm not sure how waking him up would hurt... He might think I'm in trouble or something and come up swinging. And as much as I don't want him to go crazier, I _really _don't want to get hit with that axe.

But there's nothing to worry about. I'll just wait a bit. I'm not going to dehydrate to death in the course of an hour or so. He doesn't sleep that long.

So I wait, swinging my leg a little and looking around at the leaves by my head. Norge doesn't drift any closer to consciousness by the time the sun's really got around to baking.

I'm sweating a lot, too. There goes the brief sense of partial cleanliness from my dip in the river yesterday. And there goes a lot of water, too...

Should I wake him up, after all? His canteen's empty, too, so he needs more water. And I could always crawl to the other side of the tree and yell at him, so I can't get hit.

Of course, that would bring anyone in the area running for us. I don't know... Maybe I should just go off myself. It's way too hot for the remaining Careers to be off hunting, and I have a sword to defend myself from anyone else. I know everyone left at this point is going to be tough, but I'm one of them, too. I may not know how to get this sword perfectly between someone's ribs, but it doesn't take a genius to know how to swing it at something that'll hurt. And it's not too heavy, either, so if I just get someone down, I can disappear into the trees before he can come after me.

I set my weapon down on the next lowest set of branches and, after one last glance at Norge, start climbing down. Mr. Puffin meets me halfway and glides to the ground. He waits as I go down the last few branches and hop to the jungle floor.

"You coming with me?" I ask quietly. He squawks, waddling closer to me.

"All right. Just keep quiet."

I take a step towards the river before suddenly feeling apprehensive. I'm going to be down on my knees while I'm filling up the canteens. Someone could easily push me in the river and just hope I drown. The current's fast... But that means the canteens fill up quicker, too, right? It never takes very long. And I should do this while the Careers are sure to be eating breakfast, right?

Oh... This just seems like such a bad idea all of a sudden...

Something crunches to my left.

Jumping, I fumble with my sword, getting it ready. I still can't see whoever made that noise, but they're close. Just please don't be a tribute. Or a mutt. Or... most of anything you could be...

The thing sounds closer, and soon he breaks into a space I can see him. And he can see me, too.

The first thing he does is laugh.

"Hey, it's our archer kid! Couldn't get your hands on a bow, huh?" Ilber steps closer, still chuckling. "Well, let's see how long you can last!"

I take a step back, heart already racing. "Norge...! N-Norge!"

No response. I sure thought I could handle one tribute, but my heart and lungs don't seem to agree now.

Ilber moves one foot in front of the other, still painstakingly slow. Why is he coming at me that way? He expects a decent battle from me? Or he just doesn't think charging me is the best thing? Or he's just trying to drive me crazy?

I continue calling Norge's name and tighten my grip on the sword.

Mr. Puffin toddles forwards curiously.

"Oh, look, you have a pet," Ilber responds in a baby voice. "How adorable." He proceeds to extend his sword and smack Mr. Puffin away with the broad side of it. "Oh, whoops! I guess it shouldn't have been in the way." He takes another step forwards. "Yeah, kid, you're next."

Giving up on Norge, I swallow and get myself ready. Should I make the first strike? No, he wants me to; that's why he's moving so slowly. Unless he just has heatstroke from wearing his jacket half zipped-up.

No, no, focus. Just be ready to counter whatever he throws at you. Okay, here he comes...

I raise my sword, ready to block, when a screech comes from Ilber's left. He ignores it.

So he's still looking straight at me when Mr. Puffin flashes in front of him. The bird's all the way across before I can blink, and it takes me another moment to realise Ilber's started to make a choking noise. And somehow all of the information has only one logical conclusion.

Mr. Puffin just ripped his throat out.

I can only stand there gawking as Ilber, throat bleeding like nobody's business, stumbles to the ground. He has a second to stay on the ground face-down before his cannon fires.

I'm still gawking.

There's a rustle as Mr. Puffin staggers back into view dizzily. I pad over carefully, but he's too disoriented to even try attacking me. He wouldn't, anyway.

I scoop him up and hug him.

"Good Mr. Puffin. _Good_ Mr. Puffin!"


	44. Conjecture

Recommended Listening: Take On Me by a-ha

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><p><strong>Osso Torya, District 1<strong>

There seems to have been at least one tsunami this morning. It took out one tribute near the head of the river and imbued the river with salt water. I can't say whether or not a second wave was responsible for the cannon later this morning, but I don't think the Gamemakers would do the same thing twice in one Games, and I don't think a drowning victim could keep themselves afloat for that long before dying. Especially when the wave must have pushed him or her further ashore rather than out into the water.

A bit more important than the two deaths is our water supply. We can't drink salt water if we hope to survive, after all. But the wave certainly isn't continuing on; Magya and I have yet to see a drop come our way, and the water's really not that tainted. We'll just have to wait it out, hoping that the river's source of water hasn't been hit. It being a manmade river, I doubt it has been.

Magya's still trying to convince me to go out hunting with her. Though I know at this point I'm not going to be of much assistance, I give in and say we'll be off tomorrow. The Capitol has had two deaths already today. There's no need to rush things, especially when we don't have any water at the moment.

So we'll be waiting out today. See who was killed, replenish our water supplies, hope we can get our hands on something to eat. It's the best we can do at this point.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

By the time I drift back to consciousness, it's late afternoon. It takes me a minute before I can even roll over to check. I can barely move, I'm so sore. I mean, my legs hurt the day after the dash from the Cornucopia, but that was just my legs. Apparently I was using every single muscle in my body trying not to drown. Because all of them hurt.

After another minute of staring just past the sun, I start trying to push myself to my feet. I get as far as my knees before my arms give up.

That's okay. Now I can at least see my surroundings, right?

It looks like I ended up on the other side of the river. Everything is sand, sand, sand. Except for... a little wall of rocks over there, by the beach...

Nope, not thinking of that. Not now. I have to go and, uh—get washed off! Right.

I start dragging my knees forward. The sand's so hot it almost burns me through my clothing. Why is there so much of it between me and the shore? Did everything just go back to where it was? Well, I guess that makes sense. I just really wish I didn't have to go so far only to wash some puke and snot off me.

Man, it's really hot over here. It's at least not so humid, but I guess there isn't any shade, like in the jungle.

I take a second before untying the jacket from around my neck. It's another few minutes before I can muster up the strength to lift my arms and put it on. My arms and shoulders feel cooler almost immediately, though I'm not sure whether it's from the shade or the dampness of the jacket.

I was wondering why they'd give us jackets in such a hot place...

My knees keep dragging me forwards, and I have to take a few breaks first, but I eventually get to the shore. I wash out my shirt and clean my face. It's kind of hard to do when my hands are still numb.

I look back at my palms. They haven't changed, at least not that I can tell. The backs of my hands are turning red, but it's just sunburn. They still have feeling in them. Or else I couldn't tell it was sunburn, ha.

For some reason it comes to my attention that I'm not smiling. What's so special about that? I'm not in that happy a situation... And, I don't know. It just seems so much harder to keep smiling when no one's there to see.

Oh, but I guess I might be on-camera. I keep forgetting other people are—

Mom and Dad are watching this. Mom and Dad have been watching this.

I told Mom I'm going to die.

I-Idiot! You don't think she's worried enough, you just have to rub it in her face, too? Igris never made her worry like this! He always stayed strong, and now you're just—just hurting her...

I consider trying to smile now, but it would just tbe too forced. I hurt, I'm really thirsty, and...

Where'd Plutonia go?

I look around again, but I'm the only one here. I try to call her name, but my throat's way too dry.

When was the last time I saw her? I... I think she was there when I woke up last night. I can't really remember since I was half-asleep. She... She didn't get hit by the wave, did she? She can't—

She can't swim.

B-but it's all right! I mean, a lot of people think they can't swim, but once they're in a life-and-death situation, they stay alive, you know? And I didn't hear any cannons! I... didn't hear much of anything since I was underwater or unconscious for most of the day, but... I barely survived, even though I spend a lot of my time swimming... But... But...

Oh, why didn't I teach her to swim? Just because she didn't want to? Swimming's important, and I shouldn't have just given up so quickly!

But how far would we have gotten in lessons? No doggie-paddler could have survived that wave.

But she doesn't have to be dead. She's not dead until I see her face in the sky!

I pull myself to my feet, though my legs can barely take my weight. I really need to get to the river. My boots hold nothing but salt water now, and I feel desperately dehydrated. I haven't eaten in a long time, but I'm so thirsty I'm not hungry. Does that make sense?

I take a step along the shore, towards where trees form a shadow on the horizon. They seem so far away, and hardly being able to walk isn't going to get them much closer. I don't think I'm going to get any water today. The thought makes my throat start burning.

It's okay. Just get moving. I'll get there eventually.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

Ise joins me in the higher branches as the death toll lights the sky. Two more out of the way tonight: the boy from Seven and the girl from Ten. We're getting closer.

I tell Ise I'm taking first watch. He nods, tells me to wake him up for watch later, and climbs down a bit. He's ready to sleep by the time the last pieces of the anthem play.

So I guess a lot happened today, though none of it was here. I slept in a bit too much, but Ise said nothing happened, so it's not a big deal. I'll be sure not to do it again, though. What if someone had come, and I wasn't able to get down there and save him in time? No, I'll make sure I'm awake in the morning.

Also, something was wrong with the river this morning. The water tasted salty. Whatever made it that way was washed away by evening, though, so we're still stocked up enough.

Food's a bit of a problem, though. We went out searching, but the animals seem to have run off elsewhere. We had some food donated, but so little is affordable at this point it hardly made a dent in our hunger. All I know is we're not going to starve to death. I won't let it happen. Ise can't die, and I can't die, or no one will be there to protect him. I'd have to be one sorry guy to leave my brother to die.

And I am not that. I will make sure he lives. I'll have to kill other people, and I'll have to d... die...

Ise is going to live, end of story.


	45. In Search of Food

Recommended Listening: Back Talk by Journey (I'm aware I'm reusing these. Chalk it down to laziness, I suppose~)

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><p><strong>Sui Holmes, District 11<strong>

I am not having much luck hunting today. I'm not missing anything; there's just nothing _to _miss. I haven't spotted any sort of wildlife since early yesterday, just before a cannon scared a bird off. There haven't been any cannons today, but at this point I'm having trouble caring. Hunger is a common thing in District 11, but I've always been pretty well-off. I certainly didn't always eat my fill, but I never had to skip a meal other than the occasional breakfast to make sure I got to school on time.

But now I haven't had anything in two days. I wasn't eating enough before that to have enough meat on my bones to keep me going. I have to find something soon. I know it's getting late in the Games, but condemning all of us to starvation isn't the most entertaining card for the Gamemakers to pull.

I bet they're just trying to force us to desperation. Like I said, there have been no cannons today. The Capitol wants us closer at each others' throats, and it'll probably be easier to kill in a hurry when starvation is hanging over your head.

I look at the cleaver, turning it in my hands. I've cleaned it since my last meal, but it still has a red-tinted edge. I wonder if Den's blood is stuck on here harder than any of the animals'. It sure seems like it never quite got off.

That's probably not going to be the only trace of human blood on here. I've been lucky enough to not kill anyone or even attack anyone, but I don't think it's going to last much longer. Things are starting to wrap up, we're in the final six, and the Gamemakers are already quietly pushing us towards a fight.

I'll have to kill someone. I'm not completely okay with it, but I'll have to. The best I can do as long as I'm here is just hope no one else will kill me.

**Magya Garrison, District 2**

This hunt has not been going well. It's so hot we have to stay relatively close to the river—although you would think the others would be here as well. Combine that with the lack of food, and we are not making good progress.

It's infuriating. We're this far along already, and we've accumulated several kills. Won't the Gamemakers throw us a bone, if just for the sake of the dramatic conflict they want?

As if summoned by my thoughts, a sudden burst of trumpet fanfare splits the air. No sooner has the sound faded than the voice of Traianus Waterman, the legendary but aged announcer, booms around us.

"Good afternoon, tributes," he begins cordially, "and congratulations to you for your astounding progress in the Hunger Games. I am proud to announce that we will be hosting a feast in your honour at the Cornucopia at sunset tonight. There will be plenty of food and drink for all tributes, should they all attend." And not get killed. "Sunset tonight, at the Cornucopia," he repeats. "I hope you will be there." Another tune from the trumpets, and the arena falls silent.

Osso and I stand in silence for a moment.

"I suppose," he finally starts, "we might have better success in finding tributes there."

I nod. "Definitely."

As the river splashes along behind us, I look out at the rows of trees. No tribute comes jumping out at us.

"Do you think we should head back for now?" I start, wiping some sweat off my forehead.

"Certainly." He shuffles his hurt shoulder. "There's no need to rush things. We should just get some rest and water so we're ready to take on the others."

"All right." I start walking back. "Four tributes besides us, right? Do you think we can handle them all?"

"Not really," he answers bluntly, closing his eyes for a moment. "Of course, they'll be fighting each other as well. It should be simple enough for you to throw a knife at a distracted person, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I rotate the knife in my hand. "Do you think... I can get all of them?"

"There are only four. As long as no one runs in and back out without you being ready, I imagine it should be rather easy." He looks down, getting his canteen out.

"Okay." I swallow. It still seems unsure, but I can feel a lot better hearing that from him. Not that he's always gotten everything right, but he has a good head on his shoulders. And he'll be fighting by my side, even if he's not in the best shape. I think we just may be able to end it all tonight. No more suffering for any of them. It'll be nice.

Osso and I keep walking, and soon enough we're back at the Cornucopia.

"Is it a better idea to hang around here or hide in the brush?" I start, biting my lip. I really wasn't in Career training all that long...

Osso raises his good shoulder. "You're the one defending us. We'll stay wherever makes you feel you'll be hitting targets better."

"Okay..." I spin my knife around again. "Let's stay in the brush, then. It's probably better not to be seen in the first place."

"All right."

**Ise Javik, District 9**

No sooner has the feast announcement faded from the air than Norge is clearly shaking his head "no" at me.

"It's too dangerous."

"But we need food. We've gone through all of the edible plants in sight, we can't find any meat—even Mr. Puffin's gone."

I'm almost glad about that, since we can't be forced to consider eating something that's not there. But I really did enjoy his company. Norge is all right and definitely someone I want to stay around, but, well, he's just not that cuddly. He's not very talkative as of late, except when he starts ranting about protecting me and that he's fine. Of course, Mr. Puffin never said anything, but he'd listen.

Oi, I'm in the middle of the Hunger Games and I'm mourning the loss of a pet. I guess he was my first pet, though. And he must have run away, since nothing came by to eat him.

I could use his help now, though. It's nice enough to curl up next to him, but I could sure use a little more protection going into that feast. Although I have to wonder whether he was protecting me, or if he was just programmed to do that to whoever hit him first. Realistically, it's probably the latter.

"We'll be safer starving than running into a pack of Careers."

"There are only two of them left, you know. And there are two of us," I reply, taking a swig of the canteen I just filled.

"We're not Careers. It's too dangerous."

"Careers are just people, too. And all we have to do is run in, grab food, and run back out." I offer him his canteen, and, after sweeping the area for other tributes, he takes it.

Once he's gulped down half the container, he hands it back to me. "We're not going, Ise. It's too dangerous."

"Everything about this place is dangerous! And I don't know about you, but I'm hungry." I look down and refill his canteen, the river splashing over my hands. "And it's not like we're going in unarmed. We already know you can take anyone with that axe, and I have a sword to boot."

"It's not enough," he counters. "We aren't trained like they are. Maybe we could handle it if we outnumbered them in men and weapons, but—" He cuts off, mouth open, and readies his axe to swing.

"Wha?" I turn around to see where he's looking.

Someone disappears into the bushes. Norge starts stepping forwards.

"Get back here!"

"Hey, hey, wait!" I call, fumbling with the canteen lid and going after him.

After a minute of running through trees, we find a foot starting to disappear into the lower leaves of a tree. Norge grabs it and yanks the tribute down. She only has a second to hit the ground before he starts to bring his weapon down.

"Norge, wait!"

He stops himself with some trepidation as the tribute below stares up helplessly, her arms in front of her protectively, her cleaver dropped next to her.

"What is it?" Norge, sounding about ready to explode, asks me without looking away from Sui.

"She wasn't going to attack us."

"That doesn't mean she won't."

"Yes, but..." I pause until he dares to glance at me. "...What was that about outnumbering them?"

"It's too late for more alliances," he says bluntly, lifting the axe to swing again.

"No, 't 'sn't," Sui gasps, scooting herself away and nearly forgetting to grab up her cleaver. She takes a second to catch her breath before going on. "J'st f'r th' f'st?"

I look at Norge hopefully. "I understand if you can't trust her for the rest of the Games, but she has a point. Just for the feast? It could work. We'd outnumber them, and we could get our food and go our separate ways."

Norge glowers, still glaring at Sui, who meets his gaze unwaveringly. "But how do we know she's competent enough?" he starts, obviously running out of excuses.

Sui carefully raises her cleaver, edge kept away from either of us, and motions at the red. "D'n."

"Seems competent to me." Norge opens his mouth to argue, but I don't let him. "Come on. We need food, we have enough people, and we have enough weapons. We don't have any excuse not to go. And I'm going whether you do or not."

Norge swings towards me, not quite switched out of his terrifying mode, and stares me down for an agonising moment.

"Fine. We'll go."


	46. Driven to This

Recommended Listening: All That Really Matters by Journey

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><p><strong>Shiran Kirkland, District 5<strong>

The announcement woke me up, and I have to wonder just how long I've been sleeping. It's afternoon again, so...

I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as I'm still alive.

I shift, looking down the river just in case anyone's coming. But I don't think they are. They'll be saving their energy for the feast tonight.

Feast. The thought of it makes my stomach rumble harder. I didn't think I was that hungry, even after I finally started to get some water in me. But I've been wearing myself out in all ways possible without any food, and... I really want something to eat. There'll be plenty at the feast, but...

The other tributes will be there, too. The Careers, definitely. And anyone else who's made it this far has to be tough. Unless they just got lucky like me. But I can't expect that...

Going is just a bad idea. Why would I put myself somewhere where everyone who wants to kill me is going to be? I don't have any weapons, and I'm too exhausted to sprint in, get food, and sprint back out. If I go, I'm going to die.

Of course, if I stay, I'm going to die, too, just of starvation. Or exhaustion, if that's possible. Or they'll send mutts after me. Or just send another wave, since there's no way I could swim that hard again. No, I'm doomed, anyway. But I already knew that.

But... if I'm going to die either way... what does it matter whether I go or not? I'm so hungry... Even if they kill me right there, maybe I can at least have a nice last meal before I go. And I don't know what the Gamemakers will do to me if I just stay. If I go get killed by Careers, it should be quicker, right? Unless they're the ones that like to torture their kills... But it's so late in the Games they wouldn't want to take chances, right? For all they know, I'm a real threat.

I'm so hungry... I...

I think I'm going to go.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

The sun hangs low on the horizon as our alliance slips through the jungle. I lead the way, with Ise right behind me and Sui bringing up the rear.

This is a bad idea. This is such a bad idea. But I won't let Ise get hurt. I'll kill every other tribute before he gets hurt. Actually, this is the best chance I'll have to do that. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. Get everyone in one place, and I kill them all. And my brother will be safe. And that's all that matters anymore.

We've already decided to go on the offensive. What's the point of outnumbering the Careers if we just sneak around until they stab us? No, we're going straight for them. Once they're incapacitated, we get our food, and Sui and we go our separate ways. Or should I kill Sui before she can get away? She still doesn't seem like much of a threat, but I have to make sure she doesn't hurt my brother. No one will get away with hurting my brother. I'll just kill her as soon as we don't need her. Then whoever else is left, I'll kill them. And then my brother will be safe. And that's all that matters anymore.

The sun rests its feet on the edge of the horizon, waiting on us as we finally start to see traces of sand tracked from the starting circle. We're almost there. It's almost time.

I grip my axe harder, looking around wildly to make sure no one's attacking us before we get there.

I can't do this. I can't do this, it's too much. What am I thinking? I can't do this...!

No, I'm killing everyone, that's that. Every last one, and then my brother is safe. And that's all that matters anymore. All that matters.

The gleam from the Cornucopia finally shows through the trees, and I check the area a few more times before coming to a stop. We'll be able to see the table from here, judging from where it's appeared in previous Games. We're staring straight at the mouth of the golden horn. Any minute that table is going to rise up...

The sunlight turns more red than orange, and suddenly the earth rumbles. The ground in front of the Cornucopia splits in two, and a huge, rectangular table ascends.

Traianus wasn't lying when he said there's plenty for all of us. Aside from the focal point of a giant roast turkey that could feed my neighbourhood for a week, there are plates and piles of steaming bread, shining fruits carefully arranged, slabs of meat cut into even slices and slathered with sauces. Closed pots of what must be stew or broth top off each side, while smaller portions of meals and sides speckle the rest of the snow-white tablecloth.

"Is that," Ise starts, so quietly I can barely hear him, "what I think it is?" He carefully points at something shiny. I force myself to glance at it between looking for enemies.

It's a bow. And I can only assume the tall canister beside it contains arrows.

**Osso Torya, District 1**

The table has come up, its cloth barely swaying from its movement, but no one has made a move. Magya stays poised, in hopes that someone will zoom in or at least give away his position. But no one budges.

Others are here; I can feel it. The tension is so thick _I'm_ starting to get nervous. But the others know we're here, and they haven't the slightest idea that I am no longer a force with which to be reckoned.

"...Osso."

I glance at Magya in response.

"Is that... your sword?" She nods at the side of the table near us.

I gaze in that direction. It's certainly a sword. The reflection of the sun coming off it almost blinds me, but I squint and start to make out the handle and design.

"It appears the same," I concede quietly. "But Ilber took my sword."

"Well, Ilber's dead." Magya looks at the blade excitedly. "We'll get your sword back after all...!"

"I won't be able to use it well."

Magya bites her lip. "But wouldn't it be better than a knife?"

"Probably."

She pauses for a second, still poised to throw at the tributes that have yet to prove their existence. "All right. I'm going out there alone. You stay, and I'll get your sword back to you. By then, the other tributes should be coming at us, don't you think?"

I exhale slowly. "It sounds like a plan to me."

"All right." Magya hesitates, looking around the perimeter once more.

If I didn't have more sense, I would ask her to go already. The suspense is horrible, but I feel as if once it ends, my own death is imminent... I've been trained to sword-fight with my left hand, but I'm nowhere near as skilled as with my dominant. I'm nearly an ordinary tribute. If a snapped tribute runs in swinging a war-hammer, I don't have much of a chance.

All right, take a deep breath and relax. You are a Career. You have been trained to create your family's legacy, and you're not going down easily.

I clench the hand hidden in my sling into a fist a few times, and I've finally got myself back to normal by the time Magya takes a step into the open.

She runs for the sword, looking for other tributes the whole while, and then sprints back, tossing the weapon to me. I catch the handle and get to my feet as she turns towards the table.

Then the chaos finally begins.


	47. Explode

Recommended Listening: The Breakup Song by The Greg Kihn Band

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><p><strong>Sui Holmes, District 11<strong>

Nothing in the world seems to move until Magya steps out. Then we all charge.

Norge still brings up the front, swinging like a madman, while Ise comes up behind him looking straight at the bow and arrows. I hurry along behind, checking frantically for any of the other tributes. The only others here seem to be Magya and Osso, who's just now starting to emerge from the brush.

In the midst of our rushing, I suddenly wonder if any of these tributes killed Tina. Her killer could already be dead, and it may not have even been a tribute. But I'm going to have to shoot to kill with these guys. It'd be nice to have some sort of unselfish motive, and misplaced vengeance is as good as any other.

I barely dodge a throwing knife as we get to the table. Norge bounds up, launching himself off an empty spot towards the two on the other side, and Ise drops his sword and starts snapping up the bow and arrows. As knives continue to fly despite Norge aiming for Magya, I slide under the table, grabbing a tiny handful of loose grapes. I shove them in my mouth and pop up on the other side.

Just having anything to chew on would be good enough, but these are so wonderful I'm tempted to stop and savour the moment. But I can't afford to. There are Careers, and now's the only time I'll have enough backup to do anything effective about that.

The air's no longer filled with projectiles, but Osso has registered me and starts swinging. I get out of the way enough to only sustain a cut across my cheek and nose, but the sting of steel I had yet to feel in these Games feels sharp enough to keep me from retaliating.

Not missing the opportunity, Osso brings his sword back around. I bring up my blade, blocking with the bit of handle not occupied by my hand. Finally recovering from the first strike, I tug my weapon away and lunge for him, forcing the cleaver into his stomach. He grunts, and I slip my blade back out before he can make a move. I swing again, but he blocks me this time, our weapons scraping against each other for a moment before he withdraws his and slices. I nearly bite my tongue off from the flare of pain across my collarbone.

I am not going to win at this rate. Pull yourself together, Sui. The guy's in a sling. And... Let's just say he killed Tina. I can't die here, and I can't let her killer go unpunished. Let's get going already.

Forcing myself to move out of the way of Osso's next strike, I put everything into a hard sideways hit. He doesn't dodge in time, and the cleaver digs in so deep my hand is immediately slick with blood. He crumbles down, flailing his sword at me with no success.

I just realise I lost my grip on my weapon when a knife thumps hard between my ribs.

I'm on the ground in a second, and I can't seem to do as much as rip the thing back out of my heart.

No. No. Hang on. I can't give up here. I've come too far, lost too much...

A second knife rips open my neck, and I only get a few more moments of pain and fear before all goes black.

**Ise Javik, District 9**

For some sick joke, all of the arrows are scattered and half-hidden instead of in the quiver. Norge and the Career girl are already hollering like nobody's business by the time I get my hands on the first one, wedged underneath a plate of flower-shaped rolls.

Oh, man, those smell good... The Careers are occupied; I could take one...

Way too hungry for the finer points of judgment to kick in, I stuff a few of the crispy little things into my mouth before checking again to make sure I'm safe. Sui has the male down, and the girl's still quite preoccupied with Norge. Whoever else is left doesn't seem to be coming to the feast.

They've got this covered. And it's not like I could fire very well when everyone's around the same place, you know? I'll just go gather the arrows and eat whatever's nearby. Isn't that the real point of a feast, anyway? Food?

I've put three more arrows in the quiver and eaten the whole dish of rolls when a cannon fires.

Dropping the plate, I whip my gaze back to the battle. The Career boy and Sui are both down and bloody, but only Sui has a knife in her heart. I freeze for a second before realising that's not doing anyone any good. I check the Careers, but neither is a threat. Back to food, then.

At some point, when I'm finally not so desperately hungry, it hits me that she died defending me. She didn't even know me, and... I'm just back here shoving my face...

What is wrong with me? I just can't control myself! Abandoning allies when I'm too hungry, blabbering and leeching when I'm too thirsty...

But I really was sure she could handle him... right...?

Feeling chilled enough to ignore the amazing smell of the smorgasbord, I devote myself to hunting down the rest of the arrows and keeping a careful, careful eye on Norge. He's still standing and swinging, but blood stains have crept their way to the back of his shirt. I should probably go help somehow.

I've just nocked the latest arrow on the bowstring when something comes bursting out of the trees. Jumping in alarm, I spin and fumble to get the arrow pulled back as Shiran embraces a plate of halfway-carved meatloaf near the far edge of the table.

He's not after me; he's already hurrying away from the table. He just wants some food—

No, he's another tribute. I haven't run into many, so I haven't had to think to hard about this before, but he's a danger to me. It's too late in the Games for mercy.

Crap, he's just a little kid...

No, it's too late. You're going to have to kill Norge, too, you know that? You might as well start rubbing your conscience away now.

I'm still not sure what I'm doing when I let the arrow fly.

I turn away, but I still hear him yowl and crash to the ground.

Okay. Moving on. Moving on...

I swallow, getting the next arrow ready and hurrying over to Norge's side.

**Osso Torya, District 1**

I struggle to get back to my feet as the cleaver slides to the ground. Magya's holding her own despite having to fend off an axe-swinging psychotic, but the other tribute is approaching her side, and she's not invincible.

Unfortunately, nor am I. My midsection is on the verge of failing to restrain my insides, and I'm dangerously close to passing out. I'm really not sure what I believe I'm going to accomplish by struggling to her side, but I doubt I'm going to get there in the first place.

All right, at this point it's obvious I'm not going to regain my footing. If I help, I'll have to do so from a distance. Well... I do have some experience with sword-throwing, but none of that was with my left arm. If I'm going to throw something, the cleaver's a better bet.

I certainly can't aim for Ise; I don't trust my aim enough, and he's almost right behind Magya from my perspective. I'll throw at Norge's back. It won't hit anything vital, but it's the safest shot for me to take. He's taken quite a bit of damage, and the addition of pain could distract him long enough for Magya to take care of Ise.

I grip the cleaver's handle, breathing carefully. I pull my arm back, calculate the aspects of the propulsion a bit longer, and throw.


	48. Failure

Recommended Listening: Tonight, Tonight, Tonight by Genesis

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><p><strong>Magya Garrison, District 2<strong>

This battle has not gone well for either of us. I only have two knives left, one for each hand, and they're not very good for blocking axes. The best I can do half the time is dodge, but Norge is inhumanly fast, and I end up having to deflect most of his strikes back to him. It's only hurting him worse, but he won't let me get a shot at his neck.

I'm just recovering from his last near-lethal strike when Ise gets to my other side, his bow drawn. Before either of us can make a move, Norge shouts and brings his weapon around again. It's too close for me to dodge, so I'm forced to grab the handle and twist the force away from me. Not enough ground separates Norge and me, so the only feasible destination for the blade is his shin. He makes a sound of pain, and I quickly go for his throat again, but just like every other time he manages to get out of the way.

Stop it! You're just causing yourself more pain! I'm trying to make this better for you!

A twang signals Ise's arrow leaving its string, but I bring the broad side of my knife down on it. It misses me entirely but almost tears more than the back of Osso's shirt.

No... How am I supposed to protect the both of us? I just—I just have to kill them already!

Norge and I exchange another set of swipes, and I spin to target Ise, who's struggling to get another arrow from his quiver. Before I can even swing, Norge goes berserk—more berserk—and I barely manage to block his strike with my arm. The damage is far from lethal, but I honestly think he just broke my arm.

I manage to keep my grip on the knife, but the pain is too great for me to make a quick counter-strike. Norge rears back for another swing, but a sudden flash goes behind him and hits him with a thud. Though he doesn't howl in pain, he freezes just long enough for the axe's current position to start tilting him backwards. He stumbles back, and while he's now too far for me to reach without risking the loss of one of my last knives, his ally is still right beside me.

He's too busy pulling an arrow back to realise I'm aiming for him. I bring my knife around hard, getting the tip just a bit below his jawline before he has the sense to send his arrow at me. I'm pushed back by the impact, but I still carve a little gash in his neck before I fall back against the table. Unwilling to free a hand to get the arrow out of my shoulder, I just force myself back to my feet as Norge recovers and turns, bringing his axe around with him. I buckle my knees, falling back to the ground before I'm hit. Norge can't quite stop the momentum, and the blade twists around, digging into his side.

"N-Norge!" Ise suddenly barks.

I turn to look at the archer, whose neck isn't bleeding nearly as much as it should be. He has another arrow ready but is carefully fitting one of the pots of stew between his waist and left elbow.

"Let's get out of here!" he shouts. "I've got food, and you're too injured to stay!"

"Don't you dare!" I shout, throwing a knife in desperation. Ise twists, and the blade etches into his bow before falling.

"Norge!" he yells again.

Norge, who's started to sink into a dizzy stupor, finally seems to respond to this, and though he's none too happy, he starts to pull back.

"No!" I scream, flinging my last knife at his neck as he turns. He half-stumbles, half-ducks, and all I accomplish is a scrape to his scalp.

Ise continues backwards, keeping his arrow drawn and waiting for the right shot, as Norge near-drunkenly grabs a handful of fruit from the table.

I hurry forwards, grabbing the nearest fallen knife, but just when it's about to leave my hand, Ise shoots. I dodge instinctively, but by the time I'm looking back up, Ise is gone, his ally stumbling after him. I hurl the knife at his neck as hard as I can, but I've been weakened by blood loss. It doesn't make it, and he just continues to slip from my view.

In despair, I crumple to my knees, gasping for breath as two more injured but living tributes walk away.

Please let them bleed out soon. Just lose consciousness and go as quickly as possible... Because I wasn't good enough to take them down before they were on me. I wasn't good enough to hit them where I was supposed to so they would die fast. Even... Even Sui. I at least got to her neck, thankfully, but she had too much time to hurt before that... Why did I throw for her heart first? I just... I... I guess I just heard Osso scream and went into automatic—

Osso!

Though the pain has descended, making so little as pulling that arrow out of me difficult, I stumble over to where Osso still sits gazing at me blankly.

"Are you okay?" I start, checking his damage. There doesn't seem to be anything fresh but some sort of stomach wound I can't see clearly. There's so much blood, though...

"Nn," he answers, clearing his throat. He doesn't say anything else, though.

"H-here, hang on a second." I look around to make sure no one's sent us bandages. After a moment of thinking, I totter over, rip off some of the tablecloth, and start pulling pieces of his shirt away so I can wrap him up.

The more I clear off, the worse the gash looks. I thought it was bad, but... Everything's soaked in blood... Including some things that really should still be inside the cavity...

Hands trembling as much from weariness as from the damage he's taken, I take too long for my liking to wrap things up. The layers of tablecloth are no longer any shade of white, but they should still help somewhat. Though blood's starting to seep through it...

"Is that any better?" I ask, swallowing so my throat doesn't feel so dry.

Osso just grunts, which could be taken either way.

"Do you... want some of the food?" I try to smile at him. "I know you're as starving as I am."

He sits silently, moving his eyes to look at the table, before quietly conceding that he's just thirsty. I nod and, not quite trusting the goblets stationed about the table, duck into the bushes and retrieve our canteens. I unscrew his for him and offer it, but he can't quite stretch his arm out to take it. Taking a deep breath, I scoot up next to him and hold the canteen to his lips myself.

In a minute, he's drunk the whole canteen, and I've taken a good few swigs of my own.

"Feeling any better?" I start. He looks at me but doesn't say anything.

"Osso... Why do you look so worried? You-you know you're g-going to make it, don't you?" I bring the corners of my mouth back up in what I realise is a broken smile.

He just leans his head back against the tree he's leaning against and closes his eyes.

"O-Osso! Hold on, okay? Don't give up—if you give up, you w-won't make i-it..."

His eyes remain closed.

"O-Osso!" I put a hand on his shoulder, but before I know it, I'm sobbing in his chest. I can't even make out the words I'm trying to use reassuringly. I just know he can't die. Not here, not now.

My hand is close enough to Osso's for him to silently squeeze my fingers before he lets go.

By the time his cannon fires, I'm too weak to pry myself off him. I just sort of linger until I slowly slide away and onto the ground. The hovercraft claw presses against me until it scoops up Osso and disappears.

Somewhere in my mourning over his death, I realise I let him die. Slowly. Without lifting a finger to make it easier for him. I don't know if I could make it back to any of my knives at this point, but his sword is right there. I could have ended his pain, but I just sat there crying.

I-I... can't... do anything right here. Everyone dying so slowly... when I could easily end it for them if I were just... stronger. And now... I don't even think I'm going to win. Someone else will have to live through this... dying on the inside for the rest of their lives... just because... I'm not good enough.

So... This is death, then? I can't really move anymore, and it's hard to breathe. If I deserved it, I ould kill myself... Except...

I don't know. For some reason... I kind of want to watch the sunset... a little bit longer. See the stars come out... Watch the leaves fluttering in the moonlight... But I'm still in so much pain...

I guess I'm just not in my right mind. Of course I'm not, not with all of this blood loss, and Osso... gone. I'm dying; I don't know what's best for me. That's why someone else has to step in, you know?

But as the final rays of the sun slip under the horizon, I can't help thinking... it really is nice... just to live a little longer...

I close my eyes.


	49. Brothers

Recommended Listening: Save a Prayer by Duran Duran

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><p><strong>Ise Javik, District 9<strong>

By the time the seal of Panem appears in the sky, I've dragged a passed-out Norge a good ten metres from the starting circle. He only made it about a step into the trees before his blood loss got the better of him. I'm glad we were at least out of range first, but we can't be too safe.

Although it was pretty difficult getting him this far. My arm's already sore from shooting arrows I hadn't touched for weeks, and Norge and the axe are too heavy for my liking. I'm not even sure how he could still swing the thing around at this point. He's not in great shape, even if he's still too hard to lift.

Not to mention the wounds. Most of them don't seem too deep, but he's peppered with them. Honestly, it's a lot less damage than he should have gotten from a fight with a Career, but it's still bad enough to knock him out. I'll have to dress them up while the seal's in the air so I can still see.

But the seal is already blinking out to show the male Career's face.

I have to get Norge's wounds taken care of, but I need to watch this first. I don't know who's dead—for a second I thought one of those cannons was Norge, but no hovercraft has come for him—and I'm not even completely sure how many died. It's a miracle how I noticed Sui's cannon over all of the screaming and clashing of steel. I can't be sure I didn't miss any.

The second face is the female Career. I guess Norge did enough damage to her after all.

I brace myself for the next one. I don't remember what district Shiran was from, but it has to be between Two and Eleven. If I really did kill him, I'm not sure I really want to...

But the next in the sky is Sui.

So, just three, then? I guess...

Realising the seal has come back up, I hurry and turn back to Norge to bandage him.

Wait. It's just... me, him, and Shiran. I know I can take Shiran by myself—he might be about to die right now—so shouldn't I... let him bleed? He's been my ally, but... we're so far in the Games now. They're almost over. We're enemies. And I have to kill my enemies if I want to get home. And I'm going to get home. I should consider myself lucky I don't have to do the dirty work myself with Norge.

So I'll just... let him die. From wounds he got fighting for me to have something to eat.

The last notes of the anthem are echoing in the air when I start ripping up his jacket for bandages.

Forget it. He's stuck with me and fought for me through all of this, and I haven't done anything but make him happy he has a brother. And that certainly wasn't my doing. Even if I can't see him through the rest of this, I can at least patch him up. I owe him that much.

...And he's not going to be much of a threat in this condition, anyway.

I only have one strip ready when the light blinks out. Oh, well. I guess I'll have to pay a little for my hesitation.

Doing my best to see in the dim moonlight, I dress any areas with enough blood to probably be sources of the stuff. There's not much work involved besides moving him around a bit and ripping through cloth, but I'm exhausted by the time I finish. I guess I've sort of been exhausted all day, though.

We won't be getting back into our tree. But, I realise, we don't need to. The last of the Careers are gone, and I don't think the kid I shot is going to be coming after us anytime soon.

So... Tomorrow is probably going to be the last battle. I guess I'll just sleep the night through. If I can.

I try to settle into a comfortable position to sleep, pushing away from the remaining supplies. The pot of stew is otherwise untouched.

I was planning on the two of us dining once we were safe. Not much longer to go, so we could celebrate it by sharing a nice, hearty meal. It's not going to happen now, though.

Hm. I wonder... I wonder if we would have had meals like that together, if we had been raised as brothers. Raised as brothers... I try to imagine it. We'd still be basically the same, I guess. Norge might be a bit more lighthearted, without having a lifelong grudge against his father. I'd get along with Norge just fine, I think. For some reason, I feel like he'd be the kind of brother who'd bully me a little, good-naturedly. And I'd always be trying to get him back, but he'd be a step ahead of me.

...All right, that's enough of that. It didn't happen, it can't happen, and I shouldn't be thinking too fondly of someone I'll have to kill tomorrow.

With a sigh, I close my eyes and try to fall asleep.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

Somehow I've managed to eat the whole meatloaf. Really, I'm not even sure how I got away from the feast in the first place. The arrow hurt like crazy, but I got back up and kept running. I didn't get too far into the trees before I just completely ran out of energy, though. I collapsed in these bushes, and then the pain came back.

I still haven't looked at the wound. Even though it wasn't hurting as much, I could tell branches kept snagging the shaft every which way, and I'm scared that once I look I just won't have a leg left to look at.

What am I supposed to do, anyway? I try to remember some tribute from some Games that got an arrow stuck in him. But it's too hard to focus, because of the pain. I decide to just not do anything. I haven't died from the arrow being like this, so...

So, what? If I keep it like that, I'm not going to die? I ate all of the meatloaf and the strips of vegetables on the sides, so I have some energy back, but I can't stand. I can't even move my leg, it hurts so much. I'll just be a sitting duck until the two left find me. Unless they just kill each other, and—!

No, that won't happen. The Capitol wouldn't let me win if I haven't killed anyone. And I'm not going to kill anyone. I don't know if I just can't, like Igris, but it doesn't matter. I have a knife—it was stuck in the meatloaf to slice it—but I can't use it. I can't attack, and I probably can't defend. I just have to wait.

And waiting to die is such a horrible feeling. It's not bad enough for me to end my life now, but it's worse than being reaped. Then, it didn't seem real, and then, I had some pampering in the Capitol to look forward to. Now there's nothing. I know I'm going to die, I know it's going to be soon, and I have nothing to look forward to but my stomach slowly going through what I gave it and making me hungry again.

I'm in pain and tired, and I want to go to bed. But I don't think the stabbing in my leg will let me. Not to mention knowing I have to die so soon. Please tell me they'll at least make it quick. Or maybe I'll just bleed out and fall unconscious... But there really isn't that much blood sliding down my calf. I don't feel sick or anything. When I die, it'll be because the other tributes get to me.

I curl up as much as my leg will let me and squeeze my eyes shut.

...Good night, Igris. If you can hear me...

S-see you soon.


	50. Lost It

Author's Note: I think it was probably obvious by my choosing 250 reviews as my goal, but I WAS NEVER EXPECTING TO GET OVER FOUR BLEEDING HUNDRED

*four paragraphs of keyboard-bashing later...*

Just... I can't even thank you enough. But thaaaaaank yooooouuuu~~~ Bwaaaaaaaaaah~~~

Recommended Listening: You've Got Another Thing Coming by Judas Priest

* * *

><p><strong>Ise Javik, District 9<strong>

To my surprise, I get a good night's sleep. It's already midmorning by the time I'm awake. I guess I must have been exhausted enough to stay unconscious.

I definitely feel better today. The cut on my neck is throbbing a little, and I'm still sort of sore, but I feel so much more full of energy now. Between the food yesterday—I'll have some of the stew for breakfast, too—and the sleep, I think I just might be ready for today. I have seven arrows, which should be plenty for two weakened people.

Speaking of which...

I look over at Norge, who's still unconscious. Or should I say, sleeping. He still doesn't look that good, but he's not exactly circling the drain, either. Good. I helped him, and I'll still be able to... do what I have to do.

Opening the container of stew, I realise a spoon is attached loosely to the lid and break it off. I hesitate, though. Maybe I should wait for Norge to wake up. Even if I'm already hungry again, I don't think I could eat this whole thing. And it'll be kind of nice, in its own way, to have our last meal together.

I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if I'm being too sentimental about this. Well, of course I am. Any amount is too much in the Hunger Games. But if I'm going to have to kill him, I could at least let him know I'm grateful for what he's done first.

After a bit more of internal debating, I go ahead and wait. He wakes up a bit before noon.

"Morning, Norge."

He just stares at me. His eyes still seem unnervingly glazed over.

"Did you want some of this stew? It's getting cold," I add, as if that's a drawback when everything around us is steaming.

"Food." His voice is cracked, and he still hasn't stopped staring at me. He sits up a little bit. "You like eating food."

"Erm, yes, I do?"

"You ate when I fought."

It takes me a second to follow his trail of thought. I slump a little. "Yeah, I should have helped you out, but I honestly thought you had it covered, and I was too hungry to think straight—"

"You think I wasn't hungry, too?"

"Eh?" I jump at the change in his tone. I liked it better blank. "I—"

"You think I wasn't hungry, too?" he repeats, voice still rising. "You think I can fight everyone off while I'm starving? By myself? You think I can get you out alive without any help? You think I can handle this? Do you? Do you?" He's screaming in my face by now, and I scoot back wildly.

From the looks of it... I don't think you can.

"Hang on, just calm down a second," I start, holding a hand up. "I'm sorry for not helping you, but it's all right now. We have food, so you don't have to be hungry, and we're both still okay. Okay?"

His eyes stop focusing on me for a second, but he shakes it off and goes back to glaring. "I can't do this by myself! I have to do this, and I can't do this by myself...! And you're doing absolutely nothing! You sit there doing nothing, nothing, nothing!" he screams, suddenly grabbing at the front of my shirt.

"Let go!" I pull myself out of his grasp and scramble to my feet, all hopes of the calm last meal gone.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing!" At this point, I'm mildly surprised he's not foaming at the mouth.

He lunges at me, and I step back.

"Norge! What is _wrong _with you? Calm down!"

At this point, he's just muttering madly. He pauses for a second before shouting incoherently and punching me in the jaw. I stumble back, craning my neck to see where I left my bow and arrows. I think I'll have to kill him now.

I sidestep him rather easily, as he's again paused in thought. As I hurry over to scoop up the bow, I realise blood is streaming down from my neck. Norge must have reopened the wound just then.

But as I start to pick up the quiver, something's wrong. I wasn't bleeding this much yesterday.

I press a hand over the wound to block the blood flow and get to my feet. A sudden wave of nausea hits me, and I almost fall back to my knees.

What... What's going on? I know that Career girl was out to kill me, but I knocked her away before she could get too far. That cut couldn't possibly be lethal now if it wasn't before!

But if it ripped open a little wider when Norge hit me...

With a flash of fear, I look back at Norge, but he hasn't moved. He's not going to hurt me, but I think he's not going to help me, either.

I've since dropped everything and put both of my hands over my neck, putting as much pressure on it as possible. Blood is inevitably leaking out still, but I'll be okay as long as...

As long as I keep sitting here with both hands on my neck? How am I supposed to shoot arrows like this? How am I supposed to do any sort of fighting like this?

A little stifled chill of despair snakes down my spine, but I don't let myself give in. Everyone else is badly injured. I could probably just stand on them until they suffocate or something? I... No...

"Are you listening?"

I wince at the sound of Norge's voice and realise he's turned back to face me. I scoot back a little in alarm. If he tries to attack me again...

"I said, are you listening?" he repeats, furious.

"I'm listening," I gasp, preparing myself to flee.

"All right!" He pauses again before throwing his hands in the air and saying "all right" again. "So for once, you're listening! You never—you never let me tell you anything before, but you're listening now!"

His rage is contagious. "What are you talking about? I let you know you could tell me anything! You're the one who decided to shoulder more than you can handle!"

"I can handle this!" he screams, lunging.

"Back off, lunatic!" I jump back, and he actually swipes at thin air for a little while before realising he's not hitting anything.

He turns back towards me, eyes wide in fury. "Just trying to get out of the way? Why don't you help? You never help! I can't do this by myself!"

"Do what, kill me?" I scream back, feeling the pulse beneath my hands throb harder.

He yells nonsense I can't quite make out and punches me again. Before I know what I'm doing, I tumble to my side and realise I let go.

Frantically, I get my hands back to my neck, but there's so much blood I can't seem to figure out where exactly the wound is. Within an instant, my vision dies.

No. No, no, no. This isn't supposed to happen. I'm not dying. There's no way I'm dying. I can't die here! I told everyone I'd come back! I can't die...

Please don't let me die! I'm sorry I'm useless, I just—!

The last of my senses flicker out.


	51. Wishes

Recommended Listening: Just a Job to Do by Genesis

* * *

><p><strong>Shiran Kirkland, District 5<strong>

So much is going on right now, but all I can do is try my hardest not to throw up.

I should not have eaten all of that. Not at once. But I was so hungry, and it wasn't even that big a meatloaf... I guess I was getting a little sick from it then, but between the sheer joy of actually eating and the agony in my leg, I really didn't notice.

I just hope I don't throw it all up. I'm horribly nauseous, but it can't be good to get rid of the only thing that's giving me any sort of energy. I feel like I didn't sleep at all last night, even though an hour or two went missing. I'm still in no sort of fighting condition.

It's kind of funny, though, how I got so far. From the cannon, there's only one other left. To think I actually have winning within reach, but I just can't lift my arm to take it...

At some point it particularly hits me that there are two of us. If I die—which I will—I'll get second place. The thought makes me disproportionately happy. It can't at all ease the pain of knowing nothing will be left of me but a cold body by the end of the day, but the thought of getting as far as my brother did makes me smile.

"Maybe I can be a little bit like you," I find myself murmuring, eyes closed. "I'm not as strong, I'm not as smart, and I'm just not... you, but... Are you, even if it's just a little bit, proud of me? I know I always annoyed you, but the only reason I was always using your stuff was because I wanted to be like you. I know by now that won't happen, but am I any closer? Would you claim me as your brother contently instead of rolling your eyes and putting up with me?"

...What am I doing? He can't hear me. He's dead.

With a tiny sigh, I roll over a little bit. The motion manages not to send a flurry of pain signals from my leg for once, and I dare to push myself a little further. It takes a lot of time and wincing, but I actually prop myself up against the side of a tree. It's a lot more comfortable this way.

I grip my elbows and squeeze my eyes closed, hoping that I won't be this terrified of death when it finally comes.

**Norge Oslo, District 8**

I stagger through the trees, axe in tow. It's almost impossible to keep going in this state, but I can't stop. I have to kill everyone else so my brother can go home. Kill everyone... Where are they hiding? I have to kill them... My brother needs to go home now... I shouldn't keep him waiting... Where are you? Come out from hiding... I have to kill you all... Where are you hiding? I need to kill you right now...

At some point, I come to the circle of sand. Try as I might, I can't keep my footing on it, so I stick along the circumference, leaning on trees as I go.

Why so slow? I need to hurry... My brother has to get home soon... I have to kill everyone right now... Every last one of them... Where are they hiding? They shouldn't hide from me... They should know I need to kill them... Kill them all...

I continue around long enough to make absolutely sure the Cornucopia is empty. Then I collapse.

What am I doing? I have to hurry. Everyone needs to die right now. They're not going to come running out at me. I have to find them. And I can't find them if I'm not moving.

Get up... I don't care how tired you are, get up... You have to kill them... so it can be safe for your brother... You have to kill them now...

It takes some struggle, but I heave myself back to my feet. I can't keep the axe from dragging on the ground behind me, but I'm moving. That's all that matters. Because I have to finish this. I don't care if more wounds reopen than what's bleeding now, I have to do this. Kill them all. Every last one.

I drag myself further around the circle until I approach a spot where someone obviously broke through the foliage. There's also a puddle and trail of blood that seems recent enough for the owner to be alive.

They won't stay that way.

I follow the trail.

**Shiran Kirkland, District 5**

It's a good hour past noon by the time my stomach finally decides it really doesn't need to kick everything back out. I'm actually feeling kind of good now, physically. My leg's still in horrible, horrible condition and won't take any weight, but I'm now comfortably full, a little more awake, and a little more energised. I'm still dreadfully thirsty since I haven't been able to walk to the river, but it's not too bad. If only I could close my eyes and die suddenly, in some sort of peace, instead of in the battle that's coming.

Well, forget that. If it's wishful thinking I'm after, I wish I could just be back out of here. I wish I had my brother back, I wish everyone else had their brothers and sisters back, and I wish no one would ever have to be reaped again. Too bad wishing won't do any good, huh?

I've started to consider the merits of a midday nap when something crunches. It sounds far, but I grab my knife anyway, and my heart rate spikes.

He's coming. This is it. No, I don't want to die yet!

Wishing and wishing my hearing was duller so I didn't have to sit and wait as the sounds draw closer, I try to get my breathing rate under control and get a game plan down. My plan is to stab him and hope he doesn't kill me. That's about all I've got.

But how do I even get that far if I'm still on the ground? He'll have my head off in a second, or—wait—he'll just shoot an arrow at me first! So should I hide and hope he walks by? Ohh, I don't know what I'm supposed to do!

But what does it matter? I'll die, anyway. And if I'm going to die... If I'm going to die in second place like him, I might as well take it a little further. Let's die standing on my own two feet.

I find a branch and start pulling myself up. I don't try to put any weight on my injured leg, but it still sends out unbearable flares of pain.

I don't care. I'm doing this, anyway. Because if it were Igris... He'd just scoff and berate us for not thinking he was tougher than that.

I'm finally in a somewhat standing position when the other tribute's about five metres away. I can't quite see him until he comes a little closer.

But it's not Ise. It's his ally. With an axe and a mad look in his eyes.

Adrenaline pounds my heart like a cold fist. This is bad. Even if he wasn't that good a shot, Ise was at least attempting to put me out with one shot. This tribute, though...

He crashes through the last couple of trees, and I grip my pathetic little meatloaf knife harder. I only get one more second to wish before he attacks.

I pivot on my good foot, grabbing at a branch for balance, and his axe embeds itself in the tree. It takes him a while to pull it out, but I'm too scared to make a move on my part. before I can figure out what to do, he's ready to swing again, and he does. I hop over, but his blade still grazes my thigh.

Poorly stifling a cry of pain, I make myself turn back around to face him so I can at least know where to dodge. His axe didn't get stuck in the wood this time, but he's still having some trouble getting it ready to swing.

I could attack him now, if I knew how to. Am I-am I supposed to go for his chest or his neck? Or something else?

Before I get any ideas, he swings again, and I have to duck to dodge. My one leg can't let me keep my balance, and I end up falling to the ground face-first.

It's not quite so hard for him to lift up his axe again.

As soon as I see the weapon's shadow rising, I roll over, but the shaft sticking out of my leg stops me short. Norge brings his axe down, and I desperately roll back the other way.

I actually manage to avoid injury other than half a slice in my side. The blade has sunk into the ground next to me, and I push the pain aside to figure out what I'm supposed to do. The first thing I try is getting back up, but I just can't do it, not with my leg like that and nothing nearby to support me. And how am I supposed to slice at anything vital if I can't even stand up? It's not like I can knock him down, either; my movement's way too limited.

So this is it? I tried, but... I guess it was inevitable...

Stifling tears, I wipe some mud off my forehead and brace myself.

Then I notice something.

"Hello, there."

The bright yellow frog only stares in response. It's not the same one that gave me my hand injury, I can tell. But if that other one wasn't lethal, and P-Plutonia said they're all dangerous... It's on their skin, right?

Breaths quickening, I pull out the knife and carefully, so he won't jump away or on me, scrape his back. He hops off in retreat, but I only get to watch him for a second before the axe comes crashing down into my back.

I scream, but I realise I'm not letting myself give up now. It's a long time before Norge can pull his axe out of me, but I'm ready.

I curl myself around, even though it rips my back open more. Mustering all of my strength into my arm, I bring the knife around into his shin, at a place where his trousers are already ripped. Once the deed is done, I find I can't stand the pain and straighten myself out.

I'm not sure what's going on now. I'm bleeding out, but... How fast does that stuff work? Or was it even enough? I... I'll probably die after all, but...

I squeeze my eyes shut, shivering. I did my best, but...

A cannon fires.

...I'm not dead right now. I'm not dead. I'm not dead!

A claw comes from the sky and picks up what's left of Norge.

It... worked. I... won. I won?

The announcer confirms my thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present your Victor of the 48th annual Hunger Games: Shiran Kirkland!"


	52. See You

Author's Note: Well, everyone, this is it. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing; if it weren't for your avid support, I wouldn't have even written this story. So thanks for everything, and here I present the epilogue.

I have now published the last of this series, _Unsurvivable_. Also, those of you leaning a bit further on the Hetalia side than the Hunger Games side might enjoy a horror-ish fic I also started, _The Rules_. So feel free to check them out if you haven't already.

And here's the list of the deaths.

Paliss Crai, D8, 16 (Journs)  
>Seborga Costa, D11, 15 (Livna)<br>Owella Fehr, D12, 17 (Magya)  
>Snuff Eitchpy, D3, 12 (Ilber)<br>Korea Im, D12, 14 (Osso)  
>Wy Micra, D5, 13 (Magya)<br>Saki Beebul, D7, 13 (Antonio)  
>Bell Gique, D6, 17 (Osso)<br>Antonio Spey, D4, 17 (Fish)  
>Den Copen, D10, 18 (Tina)<br>Aurth Unikin, D6, 14 (Bird)  
>Sheen Sehre, D2, 17 (Norge)<br>Feli Vargas, D3, 17 (Magya)  
>Tina Sinki, D9, 15 (Magya)<br>Journs Sykop, D4, 18 (Ilber)  
>Livna Wickham, D1, 16 (Ilber)<br>Plutonia Agnelli, D10, 14 (Tidal Wave)  
>Ilber Schmidt, D7, 16 (Mr. Puffin)<br>Sui Holmes, D11, 16 (Magya)  
>Osso Torya, D1, 18 (Sui)<br>Magya Garrison, D2, 17 (Norge)  
>Ise Javik, D9, 16 (Norge)<br>Norge Oslo, D8, 17 (Shiran)

* * *

><p><strong>Amer Jones, District 10<strong>

This meeting wasn't as hard to arrange as I thought it would be. I knew I couldn't go see him at his house, since he's from another district and all, and I don't wanna wait months for a chance to see him on his Victory Tour. But then Matt realised he has a phone in his house, too, and there are so many huge parties at the Capitol it'd be easy for us to end up at the same one.

So, some phone calls, some other stuff, and here we are. Or, at least, here I am. I haven't found him yet—the party's too loud and crowded and erratically-lighted, and of course everyone wants to take their picture with me or have me sign stuff or sponsor stuff or whatever—but I know he has to be here. Actually, it may have been a better idea to try to meet him at the entrance...

I start weaving my way back towards the door, but it's almost a whole minute before I'm a metre closer to the entrance. And then some Capitol lady who's already had a little too much to drink decides to pull me over and hit on me while attempting to fondle one of my biceps. I drive her away as politely as possible—which means I shove her _lightly_ and push myself a few people further into the crowd—and keep going.

That encounter should probably disturb me a little bit more, considering what I've heard the Capitol does with some of their Victors, but it doesn't. I figure if they were gonna do that to me, they'd already have done it, because of the little I can say of myself, I'm pretty good-looking. Ha. They're probably just afraid I'd snap and kill the girl.

As for Shiran... He's safe for now, since he's just thirteen—apparently the Capitol does have some sort of morals—but later... If he grows up to look more like his brother, he's not in too much danger. Not that... Igris... was ugly or anything, but, uh, you know.

I guess I just have to hope he doesn't get too popular. That, and the Capitol should know if they mess with him, they're messing with me...!

I physically stop.

Whoa, hang on. You're not thinking like that anymore, remember? It's too dangerous. Shiran really needs someone behind his back, but it just... can't be you, okay? You're not suited for that kind of thing anymore. He can make other friends. He's an outgoing enough guy. He probably has tons of friends back in District 5, anyway. He doesn't need you, and it doesn't really matter if you need him. It's just safer for everyone that way.

It takes forever, but I finally end up near the entrance. I hope I didn't miss him coming in. It'll be a headache sorting through everyone—

He's stepping out of a car right now. I start waving at him rather frantically as he hurries up the drive. He's still limping, but it's not as bad as it was when he first left hospital. I wonder if he'll ever walk normally again. The Capitol can heal just about anything, but I still can't lift my right arm all the way. But I deserve that. If there's any such thing as justice, he won't have to keep his scars forever.

"Sorry I'm late!" He steps in front of me panting. "Something on the train broke, and it took them a little while to fix it."

"No, it's fine," I reply, grinning despite myself. "Oh, and it's a little noisy in here, but I know a good spot where we'll be able to hear each other."

It takes him a second to register my words through the noise, but then he smiles and nods.

" 'Kay, let's go." I lead him through the crowd, and it still takes unnervingly long—especially when a lot of them recognise him as their newest Victor—but we eventually get into a hall, and I open a door for him. We enter the stairwell, which pretty much isn't used since the building's so tall and stuffed with elevators.

"So," Shiran starts, leaning against the rail, "what's up?"

"Eh, not much," I reply awkwardly. There's a patch of silence before I finally break down and hug him. "I-I... am just r-really glad you're alive," I choke out, getting teary.

"Me, too," he says after a second. "...But if you keep smothering me, I'm not gonna stay that way."

I pull back. "Ahaha, sorry. Kinda got carried away."

"That's okay." He straightens out his outfit, a maroon tuxedo that seems familiar for some reason I can't quite put my finger on. "So..." He puts his shoulder blades back against the railing. "Do you... have any advice?"

"Uh, advice?" I echo.

"Yeah. Like... how to... deal with it all."

Oh, boy. You're coming to the wrong place for that. Although I've made it a couple of long years without killing myself or getting hopelessly addicted to drugs or alcohol. That puts me in a sort of elite, I guess.

"Well... It's good to keep yourself around people, keep yourself busy. You have no reason not to go out and make a bunch more friends, so..."

"More?" he responds. "Amer... Igris told you how it is where I live. People with money don't have friends." He bites his lip. "You... You're the only one outside my family I know cares about me."

"W-well, I know you're the kind of guy that can make new friends like crazy, so, uh..." I try to calm myself down and believe what I'm saying. You know he's friendly enough. He can do this without you. "I mean, if the money's the problem, you could always give it away. I guess they probably wouldn't let you before, but now it's, like, directly from the Capitol, so you wouldn't be making them look bad or anything, right?"

"Yeah?" he starts hesitantly. "Have you got away with that?"

"So far." I realise I've stopped smiling and put my happy face back on. "Just use what it takes to feed your family and do your talent, and give the rest away. That's what I do, at least. Of course, I kinda spend an awful lot on food, but, uh... At least my talent's not that expensive."

"Oh, yeah, you do comics, don't you? I have a lot of them." He smiles, lowering his gaze a bit. "My favourite character's England."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Yeah, I... like him, too." I lean against the rails next to him, making the metal squeak in protest, and exhale. "Man, this is getting a little depressing. Uh... Back to advice, then?"

"Sure," he says with a little laugh.

"Right. Uh... Forgot what I was gonna say." He snorts, and I end up laughing, too. "So, uh... You should be able to make friends after that, I think. And you always have your family, too." I close my eyes, thinking of my Victory Tour. "You have good parents."

He doesn't say anything for a while, so I look back at him. He's staring at the floor.

"You okay?" I start, leaning a little to see his face.

"Um, yeah, fine." He puts on a fragile smile and straightens back up. "Um, I guess I didn't tell you..." He gives up on the smile. "My mom had a heart attack."

And I have no idea what I'm supposed to say. But I guess that doesn't really matter since the announcement knocked the breath out of me, anyway. His mother... I swear, if the Capitol—!

"It really was a heart attack," he starts. I realise my fury must have shown on my face and wipe my expression clean, doing my best not to despair at my reaction.

"It was before I had won, so the Capitol wouldn't have done it," he goes on. His voice drops so much I can barely hear it. "It was the night I went and got myself shot at the feast." His voice breaks, and he bites his lip to stifle the tears. "I killed my own mother...! I never even thought about what would happen to her if I got killed at the feast, I just—I just—"

"Hold it!" I interrupt before he can get too hysterical. "You can't blame yourself for that! There's no way you can blame yourself for that. You can't be blamed for killing someone when they just reacted in a way you didn't predict, okay?" I'm such a freaking hypocrite I oughta shoot myself right now. "And... And that's probably not it, anyway, all right? Don't you think she was scared out of her mind when I-Igris was out there? When we were fighting the Careers? Or when... A-at the end of our Games? She didn't have a heart attack then. And she didn't have a heart attack when you were reaped, or attacked by that fish, or in that tidal wave. Don't you think any of that would have been enough already, if you were going to give her a heart attack?"

"I... guess," he mutters, not exactly convinced.

"It's not your fault. You know it can't be. Don't blame yourself for everything, okay?" Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite. "You deserve to think better of yourself than that. And about Norge, too... You know it was wrong to kill him, but... They didn't show it in the recaps, but he was trying to protect his ally, and he just sort of l-lost it... I-if he had known the one he was t-trying to protect was dead, I promise you, I p-promise you he would have wanted you to k-kill him..."

"Okay," he says quietly, a little more accepting of this one.

We stand in silence for a minute, both wanting to ease the mood but not sure how.

"W-well," Shiran finally starts, leaning back on his feet, "I'm really glad I got to see you face-to-face, but I should probably get back now." He sort of smiles. "It's past my bedtime, and Dad isn't that happy with me being at a Capitol party, anyway..."

"Oh, that's okay," I reply, standing up myself. "It's been great to see you, too. I'll call you later?"

He leads the way to the stairwell door. "Yeah, definitely. He presses on the handle, but stops. "And Amer..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not going to forgive myself completely if you can't do the same, even just a little bit. You don't give yourself enough credit. I'm counting on you, so don't hurt yourself. Or..." He smiles at me tearfully. "Or I'll bloody kill you."

Giving up on not crying, I hug him again, a little too hard. He hugs back for a second before I let go and escort him to the front door. We say goodbye again, and he hurries off to the waiting black car.

So I guess we're friends, then. I should know better, it's too dangerous, and everything else, but there's no getting out of it now. He needs me too much, and he's too much like his brother. I couldn't leave him be if I tried. But maybe it can be okay, anyway. Being a Victor and mentor is miserable, but he won't have to go it alone.


End file.
